The Red Haired Girl Says Goodbye

Katherine was in my Reading Class for two of the last three years. She was never a hard worker, but always really well behaved and generally a joy to be around. Today, she saw me in the hallway, doing my before-class get-to-class-and-hurry-up duties.
“I heard you are not going to teach any more after this year,” she said.
“Yes,” I said, “After thirty years, I have had all the teaching I need.”
Her brown eyes grew big and sad like a puppy’s. “We’re gonna miss you.”
“We really are,” said Barbra, one of her two friends.
“I need to give you a hug,” she said.
I hugged her gingerly, always conscious of the dangers of touching a student. But there was no hint of the inappropriate kind of love. Only a student saying goodbye to a teacher who meant a little bit more to her than other teachers. And it touched my heart. I figure I have touched the lives of more than two thousand five hundred. That’s two thousand five hundred at least that have taken a little bit of my life and touched me. And this one said, “I’ll come to your classroom and visit you before the year is over.” I’m going to miss her. I’m going to miss her times 2,500.