Eight years ago, I was teaching 4th grade special ed students. Two of them were diagnosed with autism and the other two had Down Syndrome. One day, “J” was upset with me and told me that she was going to have her father kill me. She felt really bad about it, and this was the apology note she gave me. It was the only time I had to talk to the principal about her behavior, she was usually no problem.
I got this other note while playing wiffle ball at Elm Park with my friend Glen. There was a group there that was spreading positivity with little notes, brownies, and punch. Glen asked me, “What if there’s poison in this?” before we took our first sips. I told him, “Then, we’ll just have to continue the game in heaven – on a scaled-down Fenway wiffle field.”
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