I walked into a time machine. All of your things were there from March, lots of St. Patrick’s 
Day green! Your books were right where you left them, your coat was still hanging in your cubby. The half used bag of marshmallows was waiting on my table for when we returned, so I could share them with you after a hard day’s work. On the wall, your 2020 goal was plastered, lovingly colored and hung with care. Our wish well board was covered with the latest news of who needed extra loves. There was even an absent folder waiting on the table for someone’s great return with the note “We’ve missed you!” waiting to be read.
The thing is…you aren’t coming back. You won’t walk through this door again. I didn’t know how much I missed you until I was gently folding your sweatshirt and tucking all of your cubby belongings into a bag. We won’t be here again as a class. You won’t greet me at the door with a hug or high-five, anxious to tell me all about your weekend adventures. See, you aren’t coming back to 4th grade.
The class job you held is now vacant, the carpet has been rolled away. The chairs are all stacked, the clipboards all packed, and that’s just…the end. So, sweet student, know that you were on my mind today, I was thinking about you the entire time I packed up our year together. I giggled when I saw that thing in your cubby and smiled when I put your books away. I miss you so much.
Please know, “My job is to keep you safe,” and I will never stop trying! Goodbye!
Love, Mrs. Roth
