In early 2009, I met a girl with a dream in the most improbable place. She needed a bit more time in school ending up a bit behind. I detoured from 3rd grade to teach high school math and science with a side of writing. Our two paths intersected at a little country school located in the middle of Nowhere, California. And so this story began.
At that time, my students were unique and quirky. Independent and in need of a patience and a different style of teaching, they found themselves at the tiny little School. My students were often referred to as “those kids” by “those people” that had never met them. I knew and loved each of them as if they were my own, because for two years, they were.
During those days, five young women waited to join me in a writing group that met twice a week. I always laughed that they’d walk miles through the worst of storms to make it to school on those days. The six of us cherished our time together as writers. Looking back, it was me that would’ve walked barefoot through broken glass to share time with these young women.
During our time together, we all thought about life, considered words that might heal us, wrote, shared, cried, laughed, and became stronger writers. Once a week wasn’t enough, so we met twice. Once, a very stern teacher heard raucous laughter coming from our classroom. Just WHAT was so darn funny in THAT classroom. We heard her coming and when she flung the door open, we all sat silently stunned. We’d been busted. For laughing!!! I can still hear her little stiletto’s clip-clip-clipping down the hall. A hilarious moment.
One particular girl had dreams of becoming a movie director. Although a lofty dream, she could attain it as well as the next person. We spent many days discussing all the ways it could become a reality. And then, something wonderful happened.
Butterfly Gal found a specific program offered to Junior high school students. A student internship at the San Francisco Institute of Art. There, for a summer, she could escape her dusty roadside town and be fully immersed in the world she hoped to enter. The day she came to see me, she was bubbling over with excitement.
The cost of the summer program would be $500. She could raise that much in ten months. She just knew she could. She’d clean her closet and sell anything she could. Heck, she’d sell cookies and bottled water on the side of the road. She’d find a job washing dishes. In no time at all, she’d have that $500. And that’s what she did, until the day her bubble burst.
Into the very same classroom entered a girl I hardly recognized. After reading the fine print, she found the $500 was only a deposit. In fact, the real cost was $3000 which might as well have been $1,000,000. Devastation and darkness filled the classroom that day as we shared tears. Again, I told her that if she was supposed to be there, she would be. That’s what faith is all about. We talked a lot about faith, she and I.
Plan B came together. Butterfly Gal spoke to the school board asking for help. The boosters kicked in money. She asked family and neighbors to help. A little more money came in. In a couple months, she was still short by $1,000. At this point, I questioned my own wisdom in encouraging her in this endeavor. Pushing boundaries can be very uncomfortable. The date for the final payment was very close and all resources had evaporated.
On a Friday afternoon, while finishing my day, I received a call from a retired school board member. Could we meet? Something very important needed to be discussed. Could I wait for her to arrive? She’d always been very nice to me. Sure it was Friday at 2 PM, but sometimes a teacher must go the extra mile. I agreed to wait.
With her brilliant smile she entered my room. She’d heard about Butterfly Gal. On that very day, she’d received news from the attorney of her late Aunt. It seemed she’d inherited some money for a specific purpose. It was Aunt Daisy’s greatest wish that the funds would help a student pursue her love of the Arts. The amount??????
Wait for it…..
Yes. Exactly $1,000.
Butterfly Gal and I danced around the room on Monday morning! She was on her way to San Francisco for a summer that would change her life. She met her goal and enjoyed a summer that proved wonderful in every way. The last time I saw her was right before Christmas, 2013, when she was happy and full of smiles.
I don’t live in California anymore, but do check the news from time to time. I’d heard of the accident that happened only miles east of our little school. On August 30th, a semi drove into the opposite lane, striking a car and ending the life of an amazingly beautiful 31 year old woman. Monday, my world was rocked a bit. It was then I found out my sweet student had been killed in an instant.
Last night, I read a letter she’d written to me on December 17, 2013, two years after her high school graduation. Chronicling our sweet time together as student, teacher, and friends, the words took me back to those wonderful days so long ago. She wrote about the impact writing had on her life. Of the positive affects her summer in San Francisco brought into her life. Of the talks we shared on dark mornings. But it was her last words that tore at my heart.
“You’ll always be one of my guardian angels. I love you.”
Rest in peace, Butterfly Gal. As I enjoy writing each day, I know you’ll be sitting on my shoulder as MY guardian angel. Now you’ll know ALL my stories. I love you, too. These words are written for you.
More tomorrow.