Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
For showing up early to school every single day, with a smile on your face.
For coming in the door, first thing, and beelining it to my desk with “news” too good not to share.
For telling me knock knock jokes that make absolutely no sense, but delight me.
For listening to me politely, even if I was sometimes on a ramble.
For telling me every type of bowel issue that might be befalling everyone you know, or have ever known, or who, someday in the future, you might encounter.
For letting me convince you that you DO know and that YOU ARE WORTH IT.
For asking me to take out a splinter, clean a wound, or put on band aids with such trust.
For showing me all your new bruises and lost teeth.
For teaching me that no matter how old you are, profound knowledge is housed within you.
For helping each other, and me, whenever asked, with utmost eagerness and speed.
For letting me choose Pajama Day every year for March Madness just because it was my birthday.
For your wide-eyed wonder and irrepressible giggles.
For coming to appreciate things you didn’t expect to like and for always trying your best even when things were tough.
For all the joyful shouts coming from the woods where you build your forts, and from the harbor where you row your skiffs.
For your amazing diligence, perseverance, and unmatched work ethics.
For the innumerable notes and drawings, valentines, presents and cards you have given me over the years.
For making me laugh every single day.
For making me so proud of you that, this moment just thinking of it, brings tears to my eyes.
Most of all, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For letting me know you like I have never known another group of children. For sharing all the parts of yourself that make up your “you-ness”. The parts that make me love you. The parts that make you unforgettable.