Life is like a box of chocolates.

People talked yesterday about crying at school on their last days with classes.  I thought “good thing I’m here for another week so I don’t have to think about trying not to cry yet.”

But had last morning class with 1st graders.  Started getting gifts –little bags of Hershey Kisses, a tiny  box with red flowers and the words “Happy Day” full of little bars of To You 37% cacao.  And a Barbie box with my name written over Barbie’s face, the word Love, on the side “Sara Love I Love Sara” and a piece of tape holding the down lid (which will not close) that says “Opne,” which is kind of sad because I can see that she scratched out the correct spelling.  Inside is a taped up bundle of lollipops (hence the non-closing lid) and two cell phone tassles that have dried fish embedded in plastic, and a note on Toy Story stationery that says simply “Dear, Sara (세라 [my name spelled in hangeul])  Hi Sara, My name is Da-Som Jang.  Sara, America den’t go.”  Then a scratched out attempt to say ‘come back’ and “I’m sorry. Sara, I Love [with a heart drawn around love] You.  Signed with the date “Monday, June 25st 2007 -Da-Som Jang.”  “St” notwithstanding, I am very pleased by the use of the date, as we spent all semester practicing it.  However, I sort of wish Koreans wouldn’t switch their names around Western style.  I want to say “Jang Da-Som, it’s your name.  Insist that Western people do it right.”

I didn’t start tearing up, but I realized that next week I will.

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