As a teacher and Dad of a 12 year old boy (who doesn’t attend the Title One school where I teach) I donate the clothing my son outgrows to our Parent Center and it gets given to the families with kids attending my school. Sounds great, right?
So I find I have a strange emotive reaction when I see one of my son’s shirts walking down the hall.
This is a shirt I’ve hugged, a shirt that was always happy to see me, a shirt that I’ve comforted when it was crying or scraped a knee. This is a shirt I’ve taught life’s lessons. A shirt I’ve been willing to give up my life to protect.
Here it is, floating by, like a detached spirit, not knowing its rightful place, not recognizing its surroundings. Then it goes by and I realize it is just a kid, with a good shirt, having a second life.
I know, weird. But I do now limit the amount of clothing I bring in at any one time. Five spirits in one hallway, well, that was too much.