Like most mornings, I arrived at school early. I was so on top of things today! I got the papers organized for the quiz the kids would take. I took special care with the papers for the five new students I got in February. They would do a modified test. I marked the questions they didn’t have to do, put a name on each paper and set them in a safe place, where I could access them easily. I sat back down at my desk and started grading the mountain of final drafts I had somehow managed to neglect over Spring Break. I was humming with productivity!
When test time rolled around for the first class, I was a wreck, scrambling to find those papers I had so carefully prepared. Not on the front table. Not on my desk either. I was so sure I’d sent them on the table at the front of the room and yet, they were not there.
Suddenly Marvin’s voice piped up, “Ms. Gillespie, could it be the papers clipped to the front board?” Ah, he knows me well. I nodded and smiled as the class erupted in laughter.
At the end of the day, I was excited because I got an email saying my Powell’s order was ready. It is a perk of living in Portland that Powell’s gives us a 20% discount for anything we buy for school. We just have to pick it up. No problem, the store is only 10 minutes from school and more or less on my way home. I knew we had a big order and I worried about carrying multiple bags out to the car so I planned ahead. I had some boxes I’d saved from a Scholastic book fair and grabbed two, knowing I had a foldable luggage cart in the trunk of my car to carry everything. I was ready.
I walked towards the stairs that lead from my second floor classroom to the main entrance swinging the boxes. It was sunny and I was bound for Powell’s; life was good! I nodded and smiled at the substitute who arrived at the stairs just before me. She was about half way down when she turned and asked if I needed help with the boxes. She’d noticed I had my left arm over the rail, wrist resting there, holding a box.
“Thanks, but they’re empty,” I replied to her kind offer.
“I thought so because I saw you swinging them,” she said. “But you are supporting that one so I thought I might be wrong.”
I blushed and confessed that, because it was sunny, I had packed my coat in my bag. Now, I am a woman of a certain age and I always go down the steep steps, holding the hand rail, but, I don’t actually like to touch it for fear of germs. I usually pull my jacket sleeve over my hand to hold on, but, without a jacket, this was my next best plan to avoid the germ handrail. She laughed, agreeing that she, too likes to hold the handrail on the way down, but had never thought about the germs before. We exited the building together smiling at the sunshine that met us.
When I finally arrived at Powell’s, I loaded the empty boxes on the cart and, since no one was at the School & Library desk, I went to the main counter for help. I told the kind woman there how prepared I was as she walked me over. She looked on the shelves but couldn’t see anything for Stoller Middle School. And then we both saw it. The large hand truck stacked to the top with 4 huge boxes. Our eyes met and we laughed.
“Let me run my cart to my car and I’ll be back to take this one,” I offered.
“I can’t leave the counter area, but I can wheel it to the door for you,” she replied, smiling.
I was back in a flash and managed to get the very heavy hand truck to my car, load the boxes in the trunk and return the cart. The gentleman at the info desk told me I could just leave the cart with him. I waved at the woman at the counter and went out to my car, ready for a delightful drive home on a sunny March afternoon.
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