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Steve was shocked when he saw a young girl who looked just like his late daughter at school. Little did he know, her mother would show up on his doorstep just days later.
Professor Palmer should have been in his classroom ten minutes ago.
The children tapped their feet excitedly under their desks. They were all ready for class, their drawing books already open to a new, blank page. Their brand-new pack of oil pastel crayons was almost lined up on one side, and each pencil had been perfectly sharpened.
The children all sat with their hands crossed, smiling at their best friends across the classroom, trying to hide their excitement.
Today was the first art class of the year, and they were eager to see what their favorite Professor, Palmer, would teach them.
"Where is Mr. Palmer?"
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
Meanwhile, dear Mr. Palmer was in the staffroom, sitting apart from the swarm of happily chatting teachers. It wasn't that he wanted to be alone. For the past two years, life had made him feel lonely.
He sat at his desk, thinking back to the day he lost his ability to feel joy.
He could smell his wife Sonia's hair as she slept next to him. He could see the patterns of sunlight slipping through the curtains and spilling onto the walls. He smelled the coffee maker and the bowl of freshly cut strawberries his daughter Mindy was enjoying. He could smell the sweetness of Sonia and Mindy's last kiss. He could hear the door close as they left for school and work, singing their favorite song.
Mr. Palmer, or Steve to his colleagues, would have given anything to see their faces and hear their ridiculous chants again. He would surrender to any God to stop the fatal car accident that morning. But most of all, he would have given anything to see the smiling face of his eight-year-old daughter, Mindy, again.
“Hello?” A little girl's voice brought him back to the present.
She waved to him from outside the staff room. And Steve saw his daughter's smile again.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Getty Images
“Mr. Palmer!”
Steve stared at him, too confused to answer.
“Mr. Palmer, hello! I'm Maggie Boone from Class 3A. It's art class now—aren't you coming?”
Regarding the teacher trying to recognize her, Maggie replied, “Oh, I’m the new student, Mr. Palmer. My new host family finally allowed me to join the school. Today is my first day!”
Steve realizes he hadn't smiled or responded to the child the entire time.
“Oh, hello…Mindy?”
“It’s Maggie.”
“Hello Maggie, welcome to school. Sure, let me get my books. I'll follow you.”
As Steve walked behind the happily skipping little girl, he wondered if he was dreaming.
The girl's resemblance to his late daughter was uncanny, but her name... Maggie... was a bigger shock.
continued on the next page
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