Tucker’s teacher met me on the sidewalk as the children streamed out of the school. She had her arm around Tucker, and they walked with the unified stride that says, “We’ve got to tell your mom about the day you’ve had.”
He had been agitated. Wiggly and squirmy. Bothersome to his classmates, poking into their personal space. We talked about it. We agreed the three of us would work together to help Tucker with this kind of impulse control.
Then she said, “Hey, Tuck, I see your brother on the playground. How about you run and play with him?” She sent him running on his way, and then her eyes met mine.
She told me more of the story. He had been so impatient for the children to leave so he could talk to her. “Mrs. Herr, my daddy died. He died at Christmas in the bedroom and he breathed his last breath and my mommy held his hand.” She said it all came spilling out of him. She said his tension and agitation were gone as soon as he had been able to say these words out loud.
She said, “I think he was really thinking about his dad today. I think he didn’t know what to do. It was too much for his body to hold today.”
My sweet boy.
He had told her, “Mrs. Herr? I think you would like my dad.”
“Yeah, Tuck? I bet I would. What can you tell me about him?”
“He had a red and brown mustache. And he made me laugh.”
“Do you look like him?”
“Mommy says I do.”
“Then you have the best gift of all, Tuck. You can see him every time you look in the mirror.” What a beautiful way to say this.
Mrs. Herr looked to me. “He was a good dad, wasn’t he?”
“He was a great dad.” Tears spilled underneath my sunglasses.
“I can tell. Tucker remembers that about him.”
“For the record, Mrs. Herr, you would have liked him very much. Everyone did.”
“I have no doubt, dear. No doubt at all.”
When we got home that afternoon, I gave Tuck a picture of him with Robb. It was Tucker’s half-birthday – the day he turned 18 months old. We had bought a little wagon and some sand toys, and we had come to the playground to play – the very playground where the boys play at recess everyday. Robb climbed ladders and tunnels, following our toddler everywhere. I, very much pregnant with Tyler, took pictures.
Tucker took the picture to school the next day. He and Mrs. Herr found a special place in the classroom to keep the picture. She let him visit the picture any time he needed to. He showed a few friends, but he made no grand announcement.
(Some things are too sacred to say out loud.)
Here’s an amazing detail to the story: Mrs. Herr is a substitute. Tucker’s first grade teacher has been on a medical leave, and Mrs. Herr has stepped in to fill the gaps and sew the seams together in the classroom.
She taught for 35 years, she retired because it was time but not because she had had her fill.
I spent a season as a substitute teacher, and I know an investment is a choice: you can punch the clock and check off the lesson plans, or you can engage and teach.
Thank you, Mrs. Herr.
What a beautiful blessing she was to Tuck AND you! I love you, Tricia!!
Wow what an amazing woman. God sends angels all over for all ages!
Oh boy ,oh boy. God bless Mrs. Herr and all teachers who he\ave a heart for children.
Oh boy ,oh boy. God bless Mrs. Herr and all teachers who have a heart for children.
God has great plans for this teacher and for you.
I love seeing how God worked through all this. He knew Tuck would have this day and he put the right person in his path. I know God will continue do this for both your sons. He has promised.
this post brought tears to my eyes. what a gift she gave your sweet boy. and what a sweet boy he is. wow.
Wow. I spent a year and a half teaching . . . and it wore me out. I am in awe of those who can do it day after day, year after year. The “teaching” isn’t the hardest part; the emotional toll is. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
So glad for understanding teachers.
Tears spilling onto my keyboard. Mrs. Herr, thank you!
What a special woman! What a blessing she was! Thank you to her for caring and doing her job above and beyond. I have tears too.
What a great lady, praise God for Mrs Herr this day.
There is something so wonderful about seasoned teachers. My son’s second grade teacher had been teaching 41 years–longer than I had been breathing. She was a God-send. It was her last year teaching and I felt so blessed that we had her.
I’m thankful the Mrs. Herr was there for Tucker and for you. :)
God definitely had Mrs. Herr in the right place at the right time. Blessings to her!! Perceptive, caring teachers who take the time to care for students individually are hard to find. I’m so glad Tucker has been blessed with one!
What a brilliant small gem of a story. Thank you so much for sharing it. And thank God for the Mrs. Herrs of this world. Wow.
Oh, that one made me cry.
Wow, thank God for Mrs. Herr…..