~Welcome to my world~

The Little Girl Who Dared To Wish

As Amy Hagadorn rounded the corner across the hall from her classroom, she collided with a tall boy from the fifth grade running in the opposite direction.

"Watch it , squirt." The boy yelled as he dodged around the little third-grader. Then, with a smirk on his face, the boy took hold of his right leg and mimicked the way Amy limped when she walked.

Amy closed her eyes. Ignore him, she told herself as she headed for her classroom.

But at the end of the day, Amy was still thinking about the tall boy’s mean teasing. It wasn’t as if her were the only one. It seemed that ever since Amy started the third grade, someone teased her every single day. Kids teased her about her speech or her limping. Amy was tired of it. Sometimes, even in a classroom full of other students, the teasing made her feel all alone.

Back home at the dinner table that evening, Amy was quiet. Her mother knew that things were not going well at school. That’s why Patti Hagadorn was happy to have some exciting news to share with her daughter.

"There’s a Christmas wish contest on the radio station," Amy’s mom announced. "Write a letter to Santa, and you might win a prize. I think someone at this table with blonde curly hair should enter."

Amy giggled. The contest sounded like fun. She started thinking about what she wanted most for Christmas.

A smile took hold of Amy when the idea first came to her. Out came pencil and paper, and Amy went to work on her letter. "Dear Santa Claus," she began.

While Amy worked away at her best printing, the rest of the family tried to guess what she might ask from Santa. Amy’s sister, Jamie, and Amy’s mom both thought a three-foot Barbie doll would top Amy’s wish list. Amy’s dad guessed a picture book. But Amy wasn’t ready to reveal her secret Christmas wish just then. Here is Amy’s letter to Santa, just as she wrote it that night:

Dear Santa Claus,

Love, Amy

At radio station WJLT in Fort Wayne, Indiana, letter poured in for the Christmas wish contest. The workers had fun reading about all the different presents that boys and girls from across the city wanted for Christmas.

When Amy’s letter arrived at the radio station, manager Lee Tobin read it carefully. He knew cerebral palsy was a muscle disorder that might confuse the schoolmates of Amy’s who didn’t understand her disability. He thought it would be good for the people in Fort Wayne to hear about this special third-grader and her unusual wish. Mr. Tobin called up the local newspaper.

The next day, a picture of Amy and her letter to Santa made the front page of the News Sentinel. The story spread quickly. All across the country, newspapers and radio and television stations reported the story of the little girl in Fort Wayne, Indiana, who asked for such a simple yet remarkable Christmas gift — just one day without teasing.

Suddenly the postman was a regular at the Hagadorn house. Envelopes of all sizes addressed to Amy arrived daily from children and adults all across the nation. They came filled with holiday greetings and words of encouragement.

During that unforgettable Christmas season, over two thousand people from all over the world sent Amy letters of friendship and support. Amy and her family read every single one. Some of the writers had disabilities; some had been teased as children. Each writer had a special message for Amy. Through the cards and letters from strangers, Amy glimpsed a world full of people who truly cared about each other. She realized that no amount or form of teasing could ever make her feel lonely again.

Many people thanked Amy for being brave enough to speak up. Others encouraged her to ignore teasing and to carry her head high. Lynn, a sixth-grader from Texas, sent this message:

"I would like to be your friend," she wrote, "and if you want to visit me, we could have fun. No one would make fun of us, ’cause if they do, we will not even hear them."

Amy did get her wish of a special day without teasing at South Wayne Elementary School. Additionally, everyone at school got another bonus. Teachers and students talked together about how bad teasing can make others feel.

That year the Fort Wayne mayor officially proclaimed December 21 as Amy Jo Hagadorn Day throughout the city. The mayor explained that by daring to make such a simple wish, Amy taught a universal lesson.

"Everyone," said the mayor, "wants and deserves to be treated with respect, dignity and warmth."

By Alan D. Shultz,
from Chicken Soup for the Kid’s Soul

The Little Girl Who Dared To Wish

As Amy Hagadorn rounded the corner across the hall from her classroom, she collided with a tall boy from the fifth grade running in the opposite direction.

"Watch it , squirt." The boy yelled as he dodged around the little third-grader. Then, with a smirk on his face, the boy took hold of his right leg and mimicked the way Amy limped when she walked.

Amy closed her eyes. Ignore him, she told herself as she headed for her classroom.

But at the end of the day, Amy was still thinking about the tall boy’s mean teasing. It wasn’t as if her were the only one. It seemed that ever since Amy started the third grade, someone teased her every single day. Kids teased her about her speech or her limping. Amy was tired of it. Sometimes, even in a classroom full of other students, the teasing made her feel all alone.

Back home at the dinner table that evening, Amy was quiet. Her mother knew that things were not going well at school. That’s why Patti Hagadorn was happy to have some exciting news to share with her daughter.

"There’s a Christmas wish contest on the radio station," Amy’s mom announced. "Write a letter to Santa, and you might win a prize. I think someone at this table with blonde curly hair should enter."

Amy giggled. The contest sounded like fun. She started thinking about what she wanted most for Christmas.

A smile took hold of Amy when the idea first came to her. Out came pencil and paper, and Amy went to work on her letter. "Dear Santa Claus," she began.

While Amy worked away at her best printing, the rest of the family tried to guess what she might ask from Santa. Amy’s sister, Jamie, and Amy’s mom both thought a three-foot Barbie doll would top Amy’s wish list. Amy’s dad guessed a picture book. But Amy wasn’t ready to reveal her secret Christmas wish just then. Here is Amy’s letter to Santa, just as she wrote it that night:

Dear Santa Claus,

Love, Amy

At radio station WJLT in Fort Wayne, Indiana, letter poured in for the Christmas wish contest. The workers had fun reading about all the different presents that boys and girls from across the city wanted for Christmas.

When Amy’s letter arrived at the radio station, manager Lee Tobin read it carefully. He knew cerebral palsy was a muscle disorder that might confuse the schoolmates of Amy’s who didn’t understand her disability. He thought it would be good for the people in Fort Wayne to hear about this special third-grader and her unusual wish. Mr. Tobin called up the local newspaper.

The next day, a picture of Amy and her letter to Santa made the front page of the News Sentinel. The story spread quickly. All across the country, newspapers and radio and television stations reported the story of the little girl in Fort Wayne, Indiana, who asked for such a simple yet remarkable Christmas gift — just one day without teasing.

Suddenly the postman was a regular at the Hagadorn house. Envelopes of all sizes addressed to Amy arrived daily from children and adults all across the nation. They came filled with holiday greetings and words of encouragement.

During that unforgettable Christmas season, over two thousand people from all over the world sent Amy letters of friendship and support. Amy and her family read every single one. Some of the writers had disabilities; some had been teased as children. Each writer had a special message for Amy. Through the cards and letters from strangers, Amy glimpsed a world full of people who truly cared about each other. She realized that no amount or form of teasing could ever make her feel lonely again.

Many people thanked Amy for being brave enough to speak up. Others encouraged her to ignore teasing and to carry her head high. Lynn, a sixth-grader from Texas, sent this message:

"I would like to be your friend," she wrote, "and if you want to visit me, we could have fun. No one would make fun of us, ’cause if they do, we will not even hear them."

Amy did get her wish of a special day without teasing at South Wayne Elementary School. Additionally, everyone at school got another bonus. Teachers and students talked together about how bad teasing can make others feel.

That year the Fort Wayne mayor officially proclaimed December 21 as Amy Jo Hagadorn Day throughout the city. The mayor explained that by daring to make such a simple wish, Amy taught a universal lesson.

"Everyone," said the mayor, "wants and deserves to be treated with respect, dignity and warmth."

By Alan D. Shultz,
from Chicken Soup for the Kid’s Soul

Encouraging Kelly
by Seema Renee Gersten

Featured in Chicken Soup for the Teacher’s Soul
Chosen by CS intern Erick Baldwin

It was my very first teaching job, and I was anxious to make an excellent first impression. I had been hired to lead a vibrant group of four-year-olds. As the parents escorted children into the room, I attempted to deal with crying kids, teary-eyed moms and tense dads. Finally, I managed to seat the kids on the carpet and we were ready to start our "morning circle time."

We were in the middle of a rousing rendition of "Old McDonald" when the door opened and a mysterious woman entered the room. She stood next to the door quietly observing the children and me. My voice and smile never faltered, but quite frankly I was very nervous. Who is this woman? Why is she here? What exactly is she observing? When I looked up again she was gone.

The day went relatively smoothly, but by the time the last child was picked up, I was physically and emotionally drained. I longed for a nonfat latte, some Chopin and a bubble bath. Then my director came in and asked to meet with me before I left for the day.

My heart raced. Did this have anything to do with the woman who had observed my class? Did I choose the wrong songs? Was the circle time too long? Too short? By the time I reached the office, I was an emotional wreck. I sat perched on the edge of my seat and waited for the axe to fall. My director told me the woman who had visited my room earlier was a potential parent to the school and was concerned about how her daughter would function in a regular classroom. Her little girl was born with a birth defect that required she wear leg braces from the knees down. The child was ambulatory but walked very slowly with a lopsided gait. She would need to be carried out to the yard and back to the classroom. Her balance was poor, and she had a tendency to topple over if she was jostled, even slightly. We would need to remind the other children to be careful when walking near her so they wouldn’t accidentally cause her to fall.

The director asked me how I felt about her becoming a member of my group. I was speechless. Here I was wondering if I could possibly survive a school year with fifteen of the liveliest four-year-olds in North America, and now I was being asked to take on a child with special needs? I replied that I would accept the child on a trial basis.
That night I couldn’t fall asleep. I tossed and turned until morning, then drove to work with my stomach in knots. We were all gathered on the carpet for our morning circle when the door opened and the woman walked in carrying her daughter. She introduced herself as Kelly’s mommy and she gingerly sat her daughter down on the edge of the carpet. Most of the children knew Kelly from synagogue and greeted her with warm, affectionate hugs. I looked at Kelly and she looked at me. "Welcome to our room, Kelly. We are so excited that you will be a member of our group."

The first day went really well; Kelly only fell over twice. After several days of carrying her to and from the yard, I thought, Why not encourage her to walk down the hallway a little by herself? I asked Kelly if she would like to try it, and she became very excited. The next day I sent the class out to the yard with my two assistants, and Kelly began her first journey down the hallway. She walked all the way to the next classroom, a total of ten feet. We were both thrilled! But my assistants were aghast that I was encouraging this poor child to walk. They pleaded with me to carry her outside and seat her on the bench so she could watch the other children run and play. "It would be so much easier," they murmured. But Kelly was persistent and eager to give it her best shot.

And so we began the strenuous task of walking daily down the hall. I winced when Kelly teetered precariously too far to the right, but she just giggled and told me not to worry, she was perfectly fine. I began to cherish our quiet moments alone in the hallway, my arms outstretched to help her regain her balance. Kelly always grinned and told me she had never felt better.

Each day Kelly and I continued our slow walk down the corridor. I charted her progress with little pencil marks on the wall. Every few days the pencil marks got farther and farther apart. Kelly’s classmates started to notice and began cheering for her as she plodded along. After several weeks, Kelly made it all the way to the yard! She positively glowed as the children congratulated her with gentle pats on the back and warm hugs. My assistants were astonished and prepared a special snack in honor of Kelly’s tremendous accomplishment.
Weeks passed and Kelly continued to walk out to the yard every single day. We rarely carried her as she became more independent.
One week in mid-December, Kelly was absent for several days. When I called her home I was told she was in Manhattan getting her annual checkup with her doctors. On Monday morning, when her mom brought her back to school, she inquired if I had been doing anything differently with Kelly. I wasn’t quite sure what she meant. Then came the dreaded question: "Have you been forcing Kelly to walk?"

I was dumbfounded. Maybe I shouldn’t have encouraged Kelly to walk to the yard every day. Maybe I had caused permanent damage to her weakened legs. Maybe Kelly would need to be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

I very softly told Kelly’s mom that I had encouraged her to walk outside to the yard by herself. I explained that she seemed to enjoy walking independently. The mother gently lifted Kelly’s dress to show me that Kelly’s knee braces had been replaced with ankle braces.
"Her legs have gotten more exercise in the past few months than in the past four years of her life." She looked at me with tears in her eyes. "I don’t know how to thank you for everything you have done for my daughter."

I hugged her. "Having Kelly as a member of my group has been a privilege."

Seventeen years later, I still think back to the first time Kelly made it down the long hallway. Whenever I have a bad day teaching and life seems too overwhelming, I think of Kelly and her exuberant smile as she painstakingly walked down that hallway. She taught me that no obstacle in life is too big to overcome. You just need to keep working at it-one step at a time.

Seema Renee Gersten

BE THANKFUL

The Pink Dress

There was this little girl sitting by herself in the park.

Everyone passed by her and never stopped to see why she looked so sad.

Dressed in a worn pink dress, barefoot and dirty, the girl just sat
and watched the people go by.

She never tried to speak.

She never said a word.

Many people passed by her, but no one would stop.

The next day I decided to go back to the park in curiosity to see
if the little girl would still be there.

Yes, she was there, right in the very spot where she was
yesterday, and still with the same sad look in her eyes.

Today I was to make my own move and walk over to the little girl.

For as we all know, a park full of strange people is not a place
for young children to play alone.

As I got closer I could see the back of the little girl’s dress.

It was grotesquely shaped.

I figured that was the reason people just passed by and made no
effort to speak to her.

Deformities are a low blow to our society and, heaven forbid if
you make a step toward assisting someone who is different.

As I got closer, the little girl lowered her eyes slightly to
avoid my intent stare.

As I approached her, I could see the shape of her back more
clearly.

She was grotesquely shaped in a humped over form.

I smiled to let her know it was OK; I was there to help, to talk.

I sat down beside her and opened with a simple, “Hello.”

The little girl acted shocked, and stammered a “hi”; after a long
stare into my eyes.

I smiled and she shyly smiled back.

We talked until darkness fell and the park was completely empty.

I asked the girl why she was so sad.

The little girl looked at me with a sad face said, “Because, I’m
different.”

I immediately said, “That you are!”; and smiled.

The little girl acted even sadder and said, “I know.”

“Little girl,” I said, “you remind me of an ang el, sweet and
innocent.”

She looked at me and smiled, then slowly she got to her feet and
said,
“Really?”

“Yes, you’re like a little Guardian Angel sent to watch
over all people walking by.”

She nodded her head yes, and smiled.

With that she opened the back of her pink dress and allowed her
wings to spread, then she said “I am.”

“I’m your Guardian Angel,” with a twinkle in her eye.

I was speechless — sure I was seeing things.

She said, “For once you thought of someone other than yourself.
My job here is done”.

I got to my feet and said, “Wait, why did no one stop to help an
angel?”

She looked at me, smiled, and said, “You’re the only one that
could see me,” and then she was gone.

And with that, my life was changed dramatically.

So, when you think you’re all you have, remember, your angel is
always watching over you.

Like the story says, we all need someone…

And, every one of your friends is an Angel in their own way.

The value of a friend is measured in the heart.

I hope your Guardian Angel watches over you always.