Gemotions

I sat on my screened-in porch, sipping iced tea, the gentle breeze a welcome caress against my skin. The garden was in full bloom, a riot of colors and scents. My life was calm, organized, and pleasant. It was the perfect afternoon. A neighbor’s son came to the door.

He handed me a beautifully crafted wooden box, filled with handwritten letters from my former students. “We wanted to tell you how much you meant to us, Ms. Evans,” he said, his voice soft. I opened the box, my hands trembling slightly. Each letter spoke of the impact I'd had on their lives. I felt an almost overwhelming sense of peace. I was utterly thrilled.