Chapter 9 - The School Yard
In September, the morning air was crisp and fresh as the autumn leaves began turning gold along Willow Lane.
It was the first day of second grade.
I walked beside Maisie as we strolled down the sidewalk toward Willow Creek Elementary School. She was wearing a bright green backpack, brand-new pink sneakers, and a denim skirt. Her pink toy phone was safely zipped inside the front pocket of her backpack.
She wasn't limping. She wasn't looking over her shoulder with hyper-vigilant fear. She was skipping happily along the concrete path, pointing at the squirrels jumping through the trees.
When we reached the school gates, hundreds of children and parents were gathered on the playground, laughing and chatting in the morning sun.
Maisie stopped at the brick archway, holding my hand tightly for a brief moment.
"Mommy?" she asked, looking up at me.
"Yes, my sweet girl?"
"If I get lonely during art class, can I look at my phone?"
I knelt down on the pavement so I was eye-level with her, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "You sure can, sweetie. You can keep it in your backpack, and if you ever need Mommy, you know that button connects straight to my pocket."
"And you'll answer?" she asked, her big brown eyes shining with pure trust.
"Every single time," I promised, kissing her cheek. "I will always answer."
Maisie gave me a huge, beaming smile, threw her arms around my neck in a tight, joyful hug, and then turned and ran toward a group of her classmates who were calling her name near the swings.
May you like
"Maisie! Over here! Look at the new tire swing!"
I stood by the school fence, watching my daughter laugh and play in the morning light, her pink sneakers flashing across the woodchips. She was free. She was safe. She was whole.
