Late afternoon last week and I was walking past a house when the door banged open and a woman shouted, “Kate? I’m a teacher. I wanted to tell you a story.”
“Okay,” I said. “I love a story.”
“So, I teach fourth grade.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “Do you read aloud to them?”
“Please,” said the teacher. “Of course, I do. Everyday. Anyway. Right now, I’m reading Beatryce. We’re about halfway.”
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“It’s going great,” she said. “That’s what I want to tell you. This student came up to me after school and asked if she could take the book home with her. She wanted to read to the end. I asked her why, and she said she felt like she needed it. That was her answer: I think I need it.”
“Did you give her the book?”
“I did,” said the teacher.
“And did she bring it back the next day?”
“She did,” said the teacher. “And I asked her if she got what she needed. And she said, ‘yes.’”
This made me tear up.
“Thank you,” I told her. “For reading to them. For listening to them. For seeing each kid. For giving them what they need.”
To all you teachers out there: thank you for these gifts you give.

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