#4190 I remember him. He was new to Bronx Science. He came in and everyone felt the change. I remember sitting next to him and his body shifted a little, and I could tell he was sneaking a peek at me. He didn’t judge. If a person was a person, that was all that mattered to him. He loved you, and you could tell. He wanted you to be happy. He wanted to be near you, to know you better. He breathed life into dead students all over the school. He was selfless. He only did his homework to please his teachers. He danced in the middle of the courtyard. He enjoyed the simplest of things. He loved the simplest of people. He was funny. He liked to whisper compliments to people. When he was wronged, he was almost kinder to the person. But he felt pain, too. He felt it more than anyone. He sobbed so hard he thought he would just stop breathing. He stood on the top of a building, howling, right at the edge, hoping to “accidentally” slip off. But the next Monday he was back in school. He didn’t judge. He was selfless. He welcomed people to him with both hands outstretched. He gave himself away. He risked anything for anyone. He took the burdens off as many people as he could. As he walked through the hallways, people followed him like the North Star. He had a leadership side, and organized people to do wonderful things. They lit up a block of trees, cooked a feast, or formed a heart in the courtyard for the principal to see from her office. He brought them together. They needed someone like him; he kept them alive and gave them hope.
Posted on: Tue, 23 Sep 2014 23:41:02 +0000