Rachel Sheridan Third Grade Teacher
Rachel Sheridan loved being a teacher. Her father said she had been born for the job. Rachel had a way of making a child reveal their inner self before they realized she had analyzed them.
Rachel wanted to impart the future to youths whose past were still young. That was when life would take on its true meaning. These little minds and hearts were the future of generations to come. The Doctors, and Lawyers, and Scientists, the world was their stage to take or make.
Rachel had felt the effects of the Great Depression as much as any other human. The difference was she was only one mouth to feed. As Rachel looked at the emotional turmoil of the parents through the eyes of the children sitting before her, she vowed to make one difference. Only one would be miraculous in the present times.
The sadness some days was such a burden that she would burst into tears upon returning home. Rachel watched as her students balanced the needs and want of their fellow students in the kindest and, yes, the harshest ways.
Rachel had two favorites above the other students, but she guarded herself against showing an extra display of affection. Sweet William and Thomas were so opposingly opposite and yet simultaneously showed love. The only divider was monetary.
Rachel thought of these tiny adults’ lessons and did not likely know it. The Third graders were a class of fighters, except for a few.
Miss Sheridan was worried about Rory. This docile little boy had become a chameleon before her very eyes. Maybe she would sit him next to Eleanor’s desk. Eleanor needed him as much as he needed her.
Rachel made a note to add spelling words to Jimmy’s practice list. Maybe he could get a family member to practice them with him. He tucked it into his overall pocket as Rachel handed Jimmy the envelope.
Rachel saw Bettie sharpening a stack of pencils at the back of the room. Bettie, take your seat; that would be the final words Rachel would ever utter.
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