Why Did I Do That in The Kid Used To Dream

It was Christmas, 1986. I was in the 6th grade. I was thankful to have had the teacher that I had. She was a sweet person that communicated on our level. I found out many years later that she came from a family of teachers. I guess that was the difference. There was something about her that made all of us want to do better.

We had a party and the way she organized it was that we would bring a dish and a gift. Boys would bring a boys gift and girls would bring a girl’s gift. We sat in alphabetical order so when we were called we would go forward to the tree and pick out a gift. My last name had me towards the front. There was a kid who’s last name started with a V. He had a hard life. He joined our school when we were in the 3rd grade. It wasn’t hard to tell that he didn’t have all that much. He and his little brother were foster kids. It was a small town so no one had secrets without enough money to cover them up and as it turned out with the local gossip herd - nobody was that rich. A family member of theirs had molested those boys and it severely messed up the older. It wasn’t hard to keep a secret like that. The news printed how a local man went to prison for molesting two male minors. He experienced what we know now as PTSD with anger outbursts and bouts of confusion and concentration issues that hampered his education. Although, on a good day he was an okay kid.

V. was the last boy called up to the tree but there were no more gifts. The teacher asked if he had brought a gift. He pointed to a horribly wrapped gift on one of the desks. If that’s the gift he claimed to have brought then no one was arguing. The teacher scolded us by asking who didn’t bring a gift. The gift exchange only works if everyone participated. Whoever it was didn’t speak up. It was a real episode of who done it. The case to this day has gone unsolved.

The teacher expressed her displeasure in all of us. How could she do that - it was only one person that created this problem. Whoever it was remains the best poker faced liar that ever lived.

She asked V to have a seat and she would try to figure it out. She even took money out of her purse to give him. It didn’t matter. The sadness that came over him was unbearable. The teacher allowed us to open our gifts and I just couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right and how could we ever move on with the party with a thief among us.

While all the commotion was going on in the room with kids opening their gifts and playing with their toys - there was a sad little boy with nothing to open. There was another sad little boy that didn’t want to participate. I approached my teacher and whispered to her, “I want V to have my gift.” She asked first did I bring a gift. I assume she thought I felt guilty. I did bring a gift, I described what I brought, the wrapping paper and the kid that got it. She asked then if I was sure. I answered yes - in my mind I am saying, “take it before I change my mind.” She said for me to give it to him. I said that I didn’t feel comfortable doing that because I didn’t want him to think someone felt sorry for him - it’s a guy code.

The enjoyment I had when she embraced him and said that it looked as if she found one last gift. I sat and watched him open it. It was a diecast key car.... WHAT? I’ve always wanted a diecast hotwheels key car! What did I do? In the same day I learned empathy, compassion, generosity and regret in a matter of 10 minutes. It dawned on me…he is playing with my diecast hotwheels key car! Then, I came to grips with my decision and pushed down the regret because, after all, it was the right thing to do. I walked towards him and asked him if I could play with that cool key car. I mean, it’s the least he could do. He gave me an emphatic NO!

Would I do it again? Of course - but not until I opened the gift first and got some playing time!