The Boy Who Ran Away

After we got back from picking up my son Jason, he hurriedly went to the living room to read the letters his classmates and his teacher wrote him. Seems only yesterday when he started first grade. This year has been remarkably challenging for him with the PCS from overseas back to San Diego. He started with Mrs. C’s class at an elementary school in Yokosuka, Japan. Then, to Ms. F’s class at an elementary school in San Diego near my sister-in-law’s house. And finally, to Ms. Q’s class at an elementary school after we moved into our new military housing nearby. Although he attended three schools, Jason said he still remembers many of his classmates from his two previous schools. Kids are truly resilient.

Letter by letter, he carefully pondered every word his classmates wrote him. Many of them thanked him for helping them with their math and spelling problems. Some even called him their “bff.” Ms. Q wrote how Jason easily retains information. Aside from his great writing skills, he also possesses the same level of researching skills.

As he reads them, the letters, he passes them along to me, so I too can enjoy the affirmations he received. We had a good system going until he came to the last letter written with neat penmanship – in a bright red ink. Jason unexpectedly became quiet and all too serious. He took longer than usual to read this last letter. Of course, I became anxious to discover what was written on this very special letter. Suddenly, he got up from the couch and ran away.

I was baffled! I asked him, “Jason, where are you going? I wanted to read that!”

No response.

With my curiosity growing, I followed him upstairs and found him standing by his bedroom door with his eyes fixed on me.

“Jason, where’s that last letter?”

“It’s in my closet.”

“Well, are you not going to show it to me?” I asked with my voice now very intrigued.

He slowly opened his closet door and reached for that sheet of paper. He handed it to me and he left for a moment while I perused the content of this one.

Upon his return, I asked him to come sit next to me on his bed. I assured him that it is okay to have a special friend.

“Daddy used to have a crush, too, you know,” I said.

“What’s a crush?”

“Well, a crush is someone who is a very special person to you,” I answered. “Do you have a special friend at school?”

At this point, he hugged me and his smile was the answer to my question.

“She’s bigger than me,” he said. “She’s 7 years old.”

To which I replied, “Well, guess what? You’re going to be seven in three months.”

Immediately, his eyes became bright and he kissed me on the cheek.

The special letter, the one that was written neatly with a bright red ink:

Dear Jason,

You have chubby cheeks. I kissed you at lunch and you ran away.

Love,
B

Ah… the magic of a first kiss!

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