Wednesday, May 28, 2008
They used to line the door; this last name tag - nicknames given each week at preschool storytime - remains.
I've got a soft spot for Jim-Bob. I can't bring myself to take it down.
I look at it and I picture Zack perched at the front of a gaggle of 3 and 4 year olds, so healthy, so happy, waiting for the librarian to christen him with a new, silly name.
Storytime was the spark. Those days crammed in the little library gave me hope. He was outrunning the delays that had left him behind.
I will miss seeing this little tag when I move.
(The obedient, the quiet - all apologies - can be found over here.)