R is for Red

“Oh God, please help me with this one,” Linda whispered as she walked back to her classroom. Her hand slid across the hallway handrail. The warmth of the corridor belied the coldness she felt to her core.

She’d always wanted to teach, to open up young minds with new information. She’d trained hard to learn new methods to ignite excitement. She challenged herself to reach each student in the way they needed to learn.

But this? Facing a child so filled with anger? Another prayer wafted to her Father in heaven.

Her thoughts went to her challenge. Even at the age of twelve, Danielle’s eyes reflected a worn-out soul. They held the depth and ravages of sorrow. Those eyes would no longer see as they had. Oh, how Linda understood. “Help me connect with this girl.”

She stepped into her room and closed the door, then with her cane, moved to where Danielle sat and took a seat beside her. “What are you thinking about today?”

Danielle shuffled in her chair for a moment, then Linda heard a crash.

“Did you throw another book?”

No sound but the ticking clock.

“Go find it, Danielle.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Linda reached to her student and found her hand, which quickly yanked away. “I want to help you learn so someday you can be independent. If you’re not willing to try, I can’t teach you.”

“My dad’s paying you to teach me.” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

Another prayer flew heavenward.

“Have you ever heard the old proverb, ‘You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink.’?

“That’s stupid.” Danielle shuffled again on her chair. “Why wouldn’t a horse drink water if he was thirsty enough?”

“Maybe that’s it.” Linda stood, moved to her rocking chair, sat down, and waited. The ticking of the classroom clock grew louder with every passing second.

“Maybe that’s what?”

“I think you gave the answer to the issue.”

“I did? What did I say?” More feet movement.

“A horse has to be thirsty in order to drink the water it’s led to.”

“So.” A harrumph sounded across the icy air. “Anyone would know that.”

“I’ve been trying to get you to drink water, and you’re not thirsty.”

The clock’s ticking rang out again.

Linda heard sniffling from Danielle’s direction. She moved to her desk, picked up tissues, and went back to sit by her now-crying student.

“I’m never going to see the blue-green of the bay or see the stars twinkle or see to pick daisies by the path. I can’t see my dog run after his ball.” Danielle’s tone heightened as the sobs grew. “I can’t see clouds and figure out what they look like.”

Linda waited several moments before speaking, then drew in a faltered breath. “What can you see and do right now?”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“I can … turn the rope for … my sister to jump …  when the other end is … tied to the porch railing.”

Linda heard Danielle’s sobbing slow and the pitch of her voice steady.

“What else?”

“Umm, I can remember what it looked like when my brother ran for the home plate at the game and slid with his cleats up. The catcher had to jump out of the way.”

The sounds of laughter through speaking touched Linda’s ears and heart.

“Anything more?”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“I used to like to paint.”

“You can still paint.”

“No, I can’t. I’ll get the paint colors mixed up.” Sarcasm slid back through the words.

“You can see shapes when you’re close up, correct?”

“Usually.”

“I can show you, with your fingers, how to read the words for the colors. We can label each color so you’ll know what it is before putting your brush in it.”

The sound of a breath being taken in quickly filled the space. “You can do that?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to go find the book you threw.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Rustling, chairs scratching the floor, more scuffling of feet, and soon Danielle was back in her chair. “Is this it?”

Linda ran her hand over the cover of the book. “Yes.” She rested her hand on Danielle’s, picked it up, opened the book, and rested both of their fingers on the page. “Do you feel this line of bumps and the one bump in the middle to the right of the line?”

“Yes.” Excitement sang on the word.

“That’s an R.”

“For red.” Danielle almost sang the word. “Now show me an E.”

“Gladly.” Linda smiled as fear and doubt released her stomach. This was going to be a very good day.

 

Photo credit: Pixaby

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *