There is a little girl in second grade at our school who is falling behind academically.
She was one of my students last year. She came out to the learning center for extra help in math and reading. She is slow. Not developmentally, but as in her general speed is slow motion. It takes her twice as long to walk out to my room, twice as long to do a math problem, and twice as long to write her name. She takes so long - not because she cannot go faster but because she moves like molasses. Super slow.
She has a sweet smile and dark eyes.
I think she is definitely capable of learning and really knows quite a bit, she just chooses to move at a considerably slower pace than everyone else.
She misses breakfast sometimes because it takes her so long to walk the 100 feet from her bus to the cafeteria, she has missed her bus and is regularly late coming in from recess because she is so darn slow.
She's a dilly dallier and despite prodding her along, she continues to move at her own, very slow pace.
Before I knew her name I referred to her by her most dominate physical attribute.
Her running nose.
I met her in May last year and inquired about her snotty nose. The teachers I work with said she had a running nose all year. In fact, the classroom rules for her were to blow her nose and sanitize her hands every single time she walked in the door. Her running nose is that bad.
I know this is gross, but I feel I must share, her face always has dried snot on it.
It is disgusting.
And baffling.
This year as she started coming out to see us for extra help again, I asked the classroom teacher if anyone has ever addressed this nose issue. I wondered if she has allergies. Perhaps she can't breath well or isn't getting good sleep because of this sinus issue and that could effect her learning.
The teacher said she would ask at a coming meeting regarding the student.
Today the teacher told me what she found out.
The girl with the running nose is a foster child, in an over-full foster home and is not receiving much attention, let alone medical treatment.
As soon as the words fell upon my ears my heart began to break.
I've heard of foster kids, but I have never met one.
I've heard of kids with nobody to look out for them, love them, care for them, nurture them, protect them and encourage them, but I've never met one.
I've met kids who live with aunties or grandparents.
But I didn't know that I knew any kids who were living among strangers.
As I picture this girl's face, with her nose all snotty and her smile covered in silver caps, I can't imagine what life is like for her.
And I realize that she is one of many.
One of thousands of kids who, for one reason or another, do not have a mommy, daddy, uncle, aunty, grandpa or grandma to snuggle up with at night.
I have room.
I could take care of her.
I know it isn't that simple, but I wish it were.
I think I may have just snatched her up today and changed the course of her life if it were that easy.
She is clothed, fed, educated, and housed - but she is missing the thing that a child needs more than any of that. She is missing a person to love her.
And for that my heart breaks.
I can't get her off of my mind or my heart.
All I can do at this point is pray fervently for her, love on her when I can, and hope that one day she will know love, joy, and receive the attention that every little year old girl desires.
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