Gemotions

The school felt smaller than she remembered. Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the hallway, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air. Her daughter, Lily, skipped ahead, oblivious to the wave of sentiment that washed over Sarah. Today was meet-the-teacher night, and she'd just learned the dreaded Mr. Henderson would be Lily’s fourth-grade instructor. *Henderson*, the man who'd made her cry over fractions.

She found herself trailing behind, hand gently resting on the cool tile of the wall. She remembered the scratchy wool of her own school uniform, the way the linoleum smelled of wax and stale milk. It had been decades, yet the memories felt fresh, vivid.

When she finally stood at the doorway of the classroom, she saw the very same freckled face, the same slightly askew glasses. Mr. Henderson greeted them with a familiar smile. Sarah couldn’t help but wince internally, picturing her own small face, red with embarrassment, in the very same room. She decided in that moment, she'd have to make sure Lily knew it was okay to struggle. She vowed to create an environment where her daughter wouldn't feel the sting of failure quite so sharply.