Every morning, I watch the playground before school. When the whistle blows, all the children come running to shoulder their backpacks and line up to wait to be called into their classrooms, and on my way past his line, I always stop by for a quick hug and kiss before he goes inside. But one morning last week I was delayed at the far end of the playground and couldn’t get to him with my usual promptness, and from a distance I could see him searching for me. Eventually, his head dropped and he started to shuffle sadly toward the back of his line. When I saw his shoulders shake, I ran to get to him before he could start to cry. When he saw me running towards him, he opened his arms wide and ran for his hug. He pushed back his tears while I covered his face with kisses, and he smiled all the

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