Dedicated to Sandra
Introduction : This tercet poem is based on truth.
One morning about an hour after school had begun
Spelling and math were finished; the key subjects all done.
I was thinking of taking my charges out to run
When all of a sudden there was a knock at the door.
I recall and I will never forget what I saw.
'Twas the principal with a little boy about four.
Behind the two, standing shyly several feet away,
I noticed his mother but not a word did she say.
I discovered so quickly it was the native way.
Her anguished look bothered me as I stood by the wall.
She cowered, made no eye contact, no response at all.
Holding her hand was the brother who was fairly tall.
Two big, brown eyes gazed up from under his pitch black hair.
A sharp arrow pierced my heart from his questioning stare.
I smiled kindly at the two, such an insecure pair.
In his left hand the principal was holding a note.
With his right hand resting on a file folder, he wrote
In the largest letters that he could make: HUGHY VOGT.
What a big blunder I made as I muttered, "Hello,
HUGGY. I'm so glad you've come to our class, you know."
The principal frowned sternly and my face was aglow.
Without further ado, Hughy was left in my trust
And into my free hand the important note was thrust.
Opening it right then was definitely a must.
I read fast: Keep a close eye on this child. He will run.
My first thoughts then were: This is not going to be fun
As I led my class, with Hughy, out into the sun.
It took very little time to find Hughy a friend.
Very soon there were too many helping hands to lend.
(In my primary classes that was always the trend.)
In art and music lessons Hughy really did star.
His detailed drawings and paintings were the best by far
Although reading, math and spelling were not up to par.
In those subjects I sometimes saw a tear in his eye
And it worried me deeply when I thought he might cry.
It pained so much to watch him so desperately try.
When I praised his printing he gave me the sweetest grin.
I will always recall that cute dimple in his chin.
And the beaming, moon face that was anything but thin.
One day he whispered how scared Mother and he had been
On the first day that all three had arrived on the scene.
He also admitted they thought all teachers were mean.
In the mornings he was keen to be first in the line.
The teachers remarked that this was an excellent sign
That he was settling well into this fine class of mine.
One lunch time he sadly asked if I'd seen his "loof toof"
And tried to wiggle it free of his mouth, from the roof
With his big jaws so wide open to show me the proof.
I gave him my apple the best method that I know
For removing a tough tooth that refuses to go.
It did exactly the job, but the blood, it did flow.
The tooth I wrapped carefully and put in a packet,
Then placed it safely in the pocket of his jacket.
(Hughy had learned in class of the tooth fairy racket.)
Most children were happy if they were left a loonie
But the few very spoiled ones were lavished with a toonie,
Especially the girls whose teeth were often puny.
When the final bell rang Hughy proudly showed Mother.
Listening intently was Isadore, his brother.
Both shared one pillow; they could not afford another.
The next day I was a little hesitant to say,
"Hughy, did the tooth fairy happen to come your way?"
He lowered his head and closed his eyes as if to pray.
I first thought he hadn't told because he'd forgotten
Until he shouted out,
"I only got a QUARTER because it was ROTTEN!"
A/N Revised/edited February 28, 2018
Revised /updated February 28, 2020
Revised /updated May 12, 2022
This bittersweet epic/ballad about a memorable experience from my teaching
career reinforces the pleasure I derived from working with delightful children such as
Hughy and their unexpected utterances which will remain with me forever. ~Gail
