When I was in first grade, I got really sick with the chicken pox. Hospitalization-for-a-week sick. While what I mostly remember from that time is my sister punking me for the free mini-soda cans I got with my hospital meals and a friendly, super-tall nurse named Thor, I also remember the way my teacher, Ms. Gomez made me feel.
One mid-week afternoon, my mom interrupted my feverish haze by presenting me with gifts from my class. Ms. Gomez had every student write me a note and sent along a jumbo sized stuffed dog whom became my childhood companion, Gubby.
When I was in first grade, I got really sick with the chicken pox. Hospitalization-for-a-week sick. While what I mostly remember from that time is my sister punking me for the free mini-soda cans I got with my hospital meals and a friendly, super-tall nurse named Thor, I also remember the way my teacher, Ms. Gomez made me feel.
One mid-week afternoon, my mom interrupted my feverish haze by presenting me with gifts from my class. Ms. Gomez had every student write me a note and sent along a jumbo sized stuffed dog whom became my childhood companion, Gubby.
While I didn't have the words or wellness to express the meaningfulness of this act, I was aware of the swell in my chest. A moment of 6 year old clarity: I would be a teacher. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah. While I didn't have the words or wellness to express the meaningfulness of this act.
When I was in first grade, I got really sick with the chicken pox. Hospitalization-for-a-week sick. While what I mostly remember from that time is my sister punking me for the free mini-soda cans I got with my hospital meals and a friendly, super-tall nurse named Thor, I also remember the way my teacher, Ms. Gomez made me feel.
One mid-week afternoon, my mom interrupted my feverish haze by presenting me with gifts from my class. Ms. Gomez had every student write me a note and sent along a jumbo sized stuffed dog whom became my childhood companion, Gubby.
While I didn't have the words or wellness to express the meaningfulness of this act, I was aware of the swell in my chest. A moment of 6 year old clarity: I would be a teacher. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah. While I didn't have the words or wellness to express the meaningfulness of this act.
When I was in first grade, I got really sick with the chicken pox. Hospitalization-for-a-week sick. While what I mostly remember from that time is my sister punking me for the free mini-soda cans I got with my hospital meals and a friendly, super-tall nurse named Thor, I also remember the way my teacher, Ms. Gomez made me feel.
One mid-week afternoon, my mom interrupted my feverish haze by presenting me with gifts from my class. Ms. Gomez had every student write me a note and sent along a jumbo sized stuffed dog whom became my childhood companion, Gubby.
While I didn't have the words or wellness to express the meaningfulness of this act, I was aware of the swell in my chest. A moment of 6 year old clarity: I would be a teacher. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah. While I didn't have the words or wellness to express the meaningfulness of this act.
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