Gifts for Jace

I’ll never forget the day that one of my students shyly raised his hand and said that he had never received a gift. My shocked fifth-graders were discussing a reading story about a boy who was not going to be getting anything for his birthday because money was tight that year. Even though this class was very open during reading discussions, Jace’s honesty surprised even me. What was even more eye-opening was the fact that this sweet, fifth-grade boy had gone ten years and never experienced the joy and surprise of receiving a present.

I searched my mind for a reason that he might be saying this. Did he want attention from his peers? No, that was definitely not his style. Was he exaggerating? Again, he was not the type. Then I remembered his story. His mother was out of the picture and he lived alone with his dad. His father had a hard time holding down a job, and coming to think of it, I didn’t see his father at registration or parent-teacher conferences. Even though on the outside Jace was a bit untidy, he always came to school with a smile and sincere enthusiasm for learning.

A couple of weeks after Jace’s comment, he was absent from school due to the fact that he had moved away. This happened to be the day I was sending home the annual note about the classroom Christmas gifts exchange. Traditionally, each boy was to bring a gift for a boy in the three-dollar range and the same was true for each girl.

As we were discussing the specifics, a girl raised her hand and sincerely suggested that we do away with our traditional policy, and each buy a gift for Jace instead. The enthusiasm grew as the students discussed the kinds of things they knew Jace would like. We took a quick vote and consistently agreed to go ahead with this wonderful idea.

Paragraph 1: Days before our Christmas vacation, the gifts began to pour in.

Paragraph 2: As I drove down his road, I saw a light flashing, signaling which home was his.

As the school Halloween party was just around the corner, the school hall was full of children dressed in different shapes and colours of spooks (鬼) and wonder. Some walked in as princes and princesses, some stepped in as vampires (吸血鬼) and superheroes and some made dramatic entrances as astronauts and historical figures. But one little girl walked in, hiding her face and hoping nobody would take notice of her grey pants and white T-shirt.

Ellie wanted to dress up as a princess that year. Her dad had promised her a few months earlier that her costume would turn a lot of heads. But, as you know, sometimes dads are too busy with their work and forget the small important things while dealing with the big important ones. When Ellie’s dad forgot to save up for her princess costume for the school Halloween party that year, she wasn’t mad at him. However, she couldn’t hold her tears back when the mean kids from her class started making fun of her.

“What are you supposed to be dressed as? Ugly Ellie?” one of the boys laughed quietly. Ellie covered her ears and cried as she heard the kids crying out her latest nickname and laughing naughtily over and over again. Every face around her was unkind and indifferent to her sadness.

Mr. Borges was her favourite art teacher and Ellie liked his classes very much. He would listen to Ellie’s deepest fears and biggest dreams. Ellie lived with her grandmother, but it was Mr. Borges who took the place of her father as her guardian, because her father was too busy with his work.

Just as the boys were making fun of Ellie, Mr. Borges came up to her. He was trying to tell her something. The girl wiped her tears right away and managed to escape the crowd of children, closely following him.

“Wait here!” Mr. Borges said and walked into the supply closet (贮藏室). A moment later, he returned, with a few rolls of toilet paper in his hand. Ellie couldn’t help but wonder why he was holding a few rolls of toilet paper.

“What’s that for?” Ellie asked.

What Mr. Borges did meant everything to Ellie, especially in the field of art.