Oof, my heart: “It was the last thing I expected to see when I opened my son’s backpack: ‘Sad day. Nobody wanted to play with me,’” writes Becky Vieira today. “It was written across a piece of paper in his sweet, sloppy, misspelled kindergartener’s handwriting. Underneath that he drew himself standing in the rain with a sad face. Wrote his name and crossed it out. And my heart broke in a million pieces. My sweet, outgoing, kind boy had his heart hurt. He’s the kid who won’t let anyone be left out. But today, he was the one sitting alone.” What are you even supposed to do in a moment like that? Becky’s working through it, as we all do. Kelly Faircloth, Executive Editor |
