photo courtesy of anissat on sxc.hu

The snow crunched under my feet. I paused outside the heavy glass doors. The playground was eerily quiet, the lull before the storm of five to seven-year-olds about to invade. Slices of bread hung by yarn on a tree, flapping in the wind, awaiting hungry birds. I took a deep breath of the frigid, fresh air and steadied my mind and my heart to give what I had to a couple dozen kindergartners.

Wide chocolate brown eyes greeted me with delight.

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