“Higher, Mommy, push me higher!” Emma cheered, her soft brown hair streaming back in the wind.

I gave the seat another hard push and watched her fly up without a care in the world.

At two o’clock Monday afternoon, I was sitting on the low wooden floor of classroom 104 at the elementary school.

Cardboard boxes of third-grade reading books were stacked neatly next to the low wooden shelves along the back wall.

I slid a worn children’s storybook onto the middle shelf, lining its paper spine up with the edge of the wood.

Principal Davis knocked twice on the open classroom door before coming in with a thick white envelope.