“I don’t want a bookmark,” he said, looking up at me.

We were in a local first grade classroom giving out the books their teacher had requested for all the students from our nonprofit,Team Long Run.

My first reaction was annoyance, but I mentally shrugged and put the bookmark down, handing him the book instead. He took it and said, “I’m not any good at this, you know, reading.” I leaned over and opened to the first page saying, as I did, “That’s ok, you can read this book just by looking at the pictures!”

As we stood there looking together at the beautiful illustrations, he suddenly read the first words of the book out loud. I looked up, surprised, and said, “Why, you’ve been teasing me, you can read just fine!”

He smiled a shy smile and shook his head, but kept reading the words, pausing to let me help with the ones he didn’t know. He got to the last few words of the first sentence and the teacher called out, “Alright children, close your books and come over for a picture!”

Reluctantly, we closed the book but, as we did, he said, ”Wait, I need my bookmark. You know, to know where we stopped!”

Trying to sound nonchalant I said, “Oh, right,” and handed him the one he had rejected a few minutes before. He placed it carefully in the book and went off to have his picture taken with his classmates.  (see above)

Thinking back, I realized two things: You never know what is going on in someone else’s head. Never. Why they might do something offensive, or rude. And, two, everyone is worth a second shot. It’s easy to see that with little kids, but aren’t we all just little kids in big bodies? The older I get the more I see the child in all my friends and family, neighbors and even strangers. The looks of insecurity or fear, of hope and expectation, and, finally, the relief of connections born out of mutual empathy, patience, and shared experiences.

I will always love that little first grader, even though I don’t know his name. And I will expect him to become not just a good reader, but a writer and illustrator, or whatever he wants to become.

Moments of discovery, shared or solitary, are really all life is made up of, --  lots of them. And even the ones we forget are still part of us, still drops in the pond that is life.

And just like my little friend, I hope we can all look up and say, “I need that bookmark now,” no matter our age, because we are suddenly both aware of our gifts, and able to ask for help from those who love us,-- strangers, friends, and family alike.

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