Heartbroken

I have three more days with my 26 children. THREE. It's not fair that the best semester of my college education is going the quickest. (American Heritage didn't fly by like this...) The good news is my class told me they were all coming to Westridge with me. The bad news is they can't. There will be tears on Thursday!

I know looking at these kids means nothing to you. But I could tell you many stories about each child. Like the day I told one girl that I liked her haircut and she instantly covered her head and said, "I hate it! I look like Christopher Columbus!"

Or the time when my hair was falling out a student said, "Mrs. Smith, your hair is messed up!"

"Why so blue?" Asked my witty student when the projector made my face look blue. And "She must have a wet sense of humor," when we read a story with the cover of a lady deep sea diving.

Along with leaving the students, I have to leave my amazing mentor teacher. I will miss her. She is the bomb.

What will happen to me next year when I have students for a whole year? How will I ever let them leave for summer vacation?!