Thursday, September 8
(Kate)
It's 3:30 pm and I'm on my way to Minneapolis. I don't have to be there until four o'clock, but due to the fact that the last time I drove this stretch I had Clay and Shelly praying for their lives, I've decided to leave a little early and drop my speed to a respectable seventy-five. I feel geriatric.
The elementary school I'm looking for is supposed to be only a few blocks from Maddie's apartment building. Sure enough, it doesn't take me long to find it.
Sometime last week, I realized that I had this need that wasn't being met. So, I talked to my guidance counselor about volunteer opportunities. I didn't tell him the specifics because I don't need psychoanalysis. Besides, I don't need anyone to tell me what's wrong. I already know. It's simple. I miss Grace.
Anyway, Mr. Guidance Counselor put me in contact with this elementary school in Minneapolis that works closely with Grant. Turns out that there's a fifth grader, Gabriel, whose regular Grant tutor isn't available for two weeks due to surgery. That's where I fit in. I'm so excited because to be honest, I have way too much free time on my hands. I'm having no problem keeping up with my classes and work, and I need something more. Something more makes me feel good. Something more is helping someone else. But I'm also a little selfish because something more has the potential to help me in ways they'll never know or understand.
I check in at the school office, and because I already emailed them all my paperwork a few days ago, they take me straight to the cafeteria where the after-school program meets. The woman from the office introduces me to the director of the after-school program. Her name is Helen, and she's nice, but she keeps her eyes glued to me while we talk, like a mama bear protecting her cubs. "Gabriel has Down syndrome. He's a sweet, sweet boy—ninety-nine percent of the time. Now and again he can act out."
"Sounds like most kids. I'm familiar."
"Familiar with children with Down syndrome?" she asks, looking doubtful.
"Yes ma'am, my sister," I say. More familiar than you'll ever know, I think.
"Oh, I see. Yes, of course. I expect you'll show him the attention and patience he needs and deserves?"
"That's why I'm here."
She nods curtly. "I will expect a full report after each tutoring session before you leave so that I can pass along the information to his mother. You'll come and get me if there's a behavioral situation?"
"I can do that. Where's Gabriel? I'd like to meet him."
She inhales and exhales. She turns slowly and calls out, "Gabriel."
A dark haired little head turns at the table nearest us. Helen motions him to her. He rises tentatively and stands next to the table as if waiting for permission.
She smiles brightly. "Gabriel, come here, please. There's someone here who would like to meet you." She talks to him slowly and cautiously like he's a frightened animal.
Gabriel approaches us and looks at the ground. Before Helen can say another word, I lower down on my knees in front of Gabriel. He's taller than I am now. I offer my hand. "I'm Kate, Gabriel. I'd like to be your friend. Will you be my friend?"
He doesn't take my hand, but when he lifts his chin to look at me, he's smiling. His smile is just beautiful.
"Hey, Smiley. Let's go to the library so you can show me what kind of books you have in that super cool backpack." I point to the backpack sitting on the floor next to the table he was sitting at. The backpack is black, and it's covered with a pattern of colorful guitars.
His smile grows, and he runs back to grab the backpack. "Walk, Gabriel," Helen reprimands sternly.
He walks back, still smiling at me. I'm still on my knees, and I whisper to him, "Let's go, Smiley."
He reaches down and takes my hand in his and whispers in my ear, "I'd like to be your friend."
I swallow the golf ball sized lump in my throat, and stand. Then I smile because for a few seconds I can't speak. I see Grace in his eyes.
We walk down the hall, and I swing our hands back and forth. We don't speak until we reach the library where all of our tutoring sessions are scheduled to take place.
"Well, Smiley, this is your school, and I'm kinda new here, so I'm gonna need you to tell me where we should sit."
He scans the room and after serious consideration, he leads me to a small table with two chairs near a window.
"I'm so glad I let you pick because this is perfect. I would have chosen that table over there," I say, pointing to the corner. "And then we would have missed out on this view." There's a small flower bed outside the window that's still in bloom.
He smiles widely. He's proud of himself. I get the feeling he doesn't get compliments very often.
I point to his backpack. "Can you show me what you worked on in math today, Smiley?"
As he unzips the bag, he looks a little puzzled. "Why do you call me Smiley?"
"Because you have just about the most beautiful smile I've ever seen." He really does. It lights up the room.
He's still puzzled, but he can't hide his smile. "But, my name is Gabriel. Everyone calls me Gabriel."
I take his math book from him when he hands it to me and place it on the table. "It's a nickname. It's like a special name that only friends can call you." He likes this idea. I see it in his eyes. "If you don't like Smiley I can call you Gabriel. Gabriel is a great name."
He thinks about it. "I like Smiley."
"So do I."
"Now you need a nickname."
I nod encouragingly. "I definitely think I need a nickname. What do you want to call me?"
His head tilts back and forth as he thinks and every few seconds his eyes crinkle up. He's focused on my face and looks over every square inch of it before he blurts out, "Spots!"
"Spots?"
He points to my nose. "Yeah, Spots."
It takes a second, but then I realize he's talking about my freckles. "Of course, I have spots on my nose, don't I?"
He nods enthusiastically.
"Well, I think of all the nicknames I've ever had, Spots is my very favorite." My heart is so happy right now.
Smiley is definitely something more.