Share A Cookie

"No, no, no, no, no! Alan, what did I say? How many times do I have to tell you?"
Alan sat motionless, he had no excuse, he had no reason, but above all, he had no words. I could see the student aid getting frustrated with Alan as he continued to make the same mistake on his math worksheet.

Without any warning, I saw the tears begin to trickle down his face. Tears of frustration flowed down his cheeks with no effort to cover his emotions. All the other children turned their heads but with a voice like a lion, the teacher prompted them to continue their work.

Alan was alone. I could see from across the room that he felt alone. Alan yearned nothing more now than to feel happiness. What goes on in a child's mind when they begin to cry? Where does all sensibility go? Do they wish to become invisible? Is there a sudden desire for their parents? Despite the tears, it was time for lunch. Lunchtime waits for no one. Merciless to Alan, lunch would come and go if he did not take part.

Everyone lined up and Alan was instructed to wash his face and prepare his belongings for what would be a somber meal. The students marched down the hall and into the lunchroom. Alan sat at the last table at the end of the row by himself. Isolation, he did not want to be disturbed. But we all want things, and many times we don't get what we want. One by one, the students approached Alan.

"What's wrong?"
"What happened?"
"You looked like you cried."
"Did you cry?"
"Why did you cry?"
"Are you okay?"

With every question, Alan became more cheerful. In a situation where most adults would snap back and become defensive, the child was turning the situation around. Then I saw something that made me feel what kids would describe "tingly-inside". One boy gave his cookie to Alan. Then a girl gave her cookie to Alan. Then another girl gave her cookie to Alan.

"Here Alan, you can have it." the girl said with a smile.

A cookie. As an adult, cookies aren't anything. But in the lunchroom, cookies are the highest currency. You can trade a cookie for virtually anything. Yet here Alan's friends are, giving him their highest value in their lunch to make his day a little more brighter.

As the day went by, I began to think about how much meaning that gesture really meant. Then I began to think to myself, "When's the last time I gave someone a cookie?"