Today is one of those days I know I will never forget. When I walked into an eerily quiet teacher's lounge at lunch, I knew there was a tragedy.
I knew because I remember the last time it was that quiet.
I only stayed for a minute, because I knew I had to teach for three more hours. I knew I had to put on my happy face for a classroom full of kindergartners.
But, it was impossible not to think about it. For, after all, they were a classroom full of kindergartners.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked down the hall to the cafeteria to two tables packed with ridiculously happy and energetic five-year-olds. I smiled as I told them to pick up their trays and line-up.
But, as we headed back to our classroom, and they all rested their head for quiet time, their innocence overtook me.
I looked at them -- and I looked at the door. I could just imagine how it happened in Connecticut.
For, after all, they are just kindergartners. Happy. Innocent. Beautiful. Full of life.... and absolutely defenseless.
I walked by each table and gave each of my students a little hug.
I put on my happy face, and we decorated gingerbread cookies after quiet time.
The day went on, but I know I will never forget the way I felt today.