*Names are changed in this story to protect the privacy of my students.

On my last day with two fourth graders, they brought some of their artwork to show me as a follow-up to an article we read on the career of art therapists.

As they showed me their art, I told them it was the last time I would see them in 4th grade, that I would miss them, and that I was looking forward to seeing them in 5th grade …

and I brought them each a bag of M&M’s, which they each decided to save instead of eating them right there. (I know, teachers everywhere are thinking, WOAH! Delayed gratification!)

At the end of our lesson, Jairo, my 4th grade boy, asked me if I would give them my phone number so they could call me over the summer. Of course I wrote it down, and they each labeled it with my name.

After copying down the lengthy “Ms. Barton-Veenkant” on his paper, Jairo asked me politely, “Is there anything shorter you would like me to call you?”

(Yes, Jairo, the story of my life is navigating life with a long-a** name.)

“Well, not right now, but in 5th grade I might have a different last name, because I’m getting married this summer.”

Gasps from both of them. 

“You’re getting MARRIED??? Can we COME???”

I explained that we were not going to do a big wedding, but instead something very small, plus a celebration afterward, and that yes, they could come to that. 

“Weddings are expensive,” Melisa commented.

“Yes, they are. That is why we have decided not to do a big wedding.”

“Wait! What if we help you the way you helped Melisa!” Jairo shouted slightly jumping in his seat.

(He was referring to the time I organized a crowdfunding campaign to when her family was in a tough spot. While I didn’t tell him about it, Melisa must have.)

Melisa nodded her head in eager agreement.

I told Jairo that I appreciated the offer, but they didn’t need to do that (i.e. they didn’t need to gather tens of thousands of dollars for their teacher to get married).

“But you have taught us so much! We have to thank you somehow!”

This just absolutely made my entire week. I feel so lucky to have the sweetest students in the whole world!

What made me laugh, though, is that Jairo endlessly insisted on their subsidizing my wedding plans. When I kept responding to his offers with something like, “Thank you, but no thank you,” he finally responded like your adult girlfriend would when you’re rejecting her help while crying on the floor with a tub of ice cream in your lap:

“We’re not asking. We’re helping.” 

We each have little moments, little interactions like this one, that reflect our love back to us from our students. Sometimes it is their words, sometimes it is their actions, sometimes it is simply in their growth.

What is a memory of teaching that warms your heart and keeps you in this work?