On Luke's first day of preschool, I wrote a note and put it in his lunch bag. Feeling sad that unlike some kids, he'd have to stay four hours after preschool, I wrote a note on an index card telling him how I loved him and how I couldn't wait to hear all about his big day.
He can't read, of course. I was worried that he'd be too shy to ask someone to read it for him, but I was wrong. In the car that afternoon, he told me that he asked his teacher to read it and she did.
I kept sending him notes, but somedays, I'd be in a rush and forget. Somedays I'd be too tired at the end of the night to even think about it. One day, I picked him up early after a doctor's appointment and his extended care teacher told me how the notes I send are so sweet. She said every day after washing his hands, he retrieves his lunch bag and very shyly brings the note to her. She told me she reads it to him and he smiles. She said often times, he puts it in his pocket, then removes it during quiet time and looks at it. Once, she said, he kissed it and laid it next to his head. She said, "You can tell he really loves you."
I haven't missed a note since then. The other night, I asked Luke what he wanted me to pack in his lunch. He said, "A turkey and cheese sandwich, carrot sticks, and a note."
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