This morning I went to the public school where Nic was supposed to go this year to let them know he wasn't going to attend. (For many reasons we decided to keep him in the little preschool where he went last year.) He is very happy there and he has a great teacher, but for some reason it made me sad that he wasn't going to be part of this other school. I thought they started on the 15th and by showing up today I would be giving them a head's up. But school has already started. In fact I arrived right when the kids were going in. The building where they are meeting until the new school if finished is a special ed school. It must be fairly new; everything seemed to fresh. The kids were adorable, lining up to go into class. I asked someone in the hall where the office was, and went to explain that Nic was not coming. They were so nice. I had braced myself for Spanish abruptness, but there was none of that. While the guy dug out Nic's papers for me I watched lines of little kids shuffle by. At least in the hall, their teachers were cheerful and gentle in a culture where there is often only yelling and shame to get kids to toe the line. I walked back through the halls, and I found myself feeling a little grief that Nic was not going to get to be a part of what seemed like a really great environment.

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