>>86398219I used to work with kids back in highschool. They were from lower income families, and the facility wasn't the best, but it provided me with a place to practice my spanish (large latino population in the school) and volunteer credit hours toward graduation. I was placed with another kid, taking care of the toddlers. I figured it was going to be a tough job, and I wasn't wrong. But it wasn't the job that was tough, but the goodbye at the end of my senior year. When I left them, there was no party, no fanfare, no certificates of success, or handshakes. I told the teacher I was leaving, and I headed for the exit. The teacher, that wonderful woman, decided to tell the kids (in spanish) that I was leaving, and as I made my way around the corner, I feel this tiny body latch onto my legs as I walk, and then another, until the kids have brought me down, like they did so many times before, when we were playing together.
I cried, that night, harder than I've ever cried before in my life. I didn't cry at either of my grandparent's funerals, or at my uncle's wake, but those kids just ruined me. I still go by the area every once and then, and I can't help but feel this twinge of pain in my heart, knowing that I might never see them again. It's always been hard to watch this scene, but after my time with the little ones, I've never been able to watch this scene fully without pausing it.
Fucking Disney, man...
