Things keep happening to remind me how tenuous life really is. "There but for the grace of God go I," I think, and ponder the fact that I am clothed, sheltered, healthy, fed, and loved. You know nobody, NO body, has ever beaten me up. Do you know how lucky this is? Older parents who knew the shortcomings of corporal punishment. Naughty, edgy boyfriends who were really raised by kind, well-meaning folks. A husband who abhors physical violence.

A few days ago, P. came into my classroom with two black eyes. Someone had beaten the crap out of this kid. Forgetting myself for the moment, I asked him what happened while in the presence of other students. He just looked at me and I backed off immediately. How about a little discretion, teacher? Later I learned that his mother, his own mother, had snapped over the weekend and taken it out on him. Did I mention that he is ten years old?

The next day, he did not return to school. He had been removed from his home. I wonder when I'll see him again.