On Valentine’s Day, the morning was
all abuzz with excited children who prepared for the party that afternoon.
They galloped toward the classroom dressed in red and white attire. As they
bustled through the door, I gathered candy, snacks and cookies from the
After storing these items for later, I
prepared to start class. The children were ecstatic and difficult to
control. Anticipation electrified the air all around them. A few meaningful
threats, intimidating glances, and class was gratefully underway.
About 8:45 a student, Tajani, sauntered
into the classroom. Some children were often late, but she was not one of
them. Tajani’s father was with her too, or so I thought. I didn’t see
her father, but I saw his shadow just outside the door. I stopped teaching
and asked him to come inside. If he needed to speak with me I didn’t mind
stopping my lesson.
When no one came inside, I walked
towards the door to greet him. No one was there. “Tajani,” I asked,
pointing toward the doorway, “where is your father?”
Tajani gazed at me with her large
expressive eyes. “He didn’t get out of the car,” she said, placing her
backpack in her cubby. I know what I saw, and I saw the shadow of a large
male hovering over this child.
“Are you sure, Tajani?”
She smiled weakly. “Yes, Mrs.
I stroked Tajani’s back. “You may
take your seat, sweetheart.”
Although I was bewildered, I had to get
on with my lesson. Later that morning, I was able to tear myself away from
the class long enough to go to the restroom. As I washed my hands I gazed
into the mirror. I was startled when I perceived a large apparition wavering
behind me. It came inside the door and hovered just to the right of me.
Keeping the energy in sight, I dried my hands.
“And who are you?” I asked calmly,
tossing the paper towel.
The apparition did not answer; it
simply hovered; wavering toward my right side. I walked past the energy and
returned to class.
When I returned Tajani was seated at
her desk. She was a good natured child with an impish grin and curly hair.
Most times, Tajani’s was full of wisdom, logic and maturity. Then, there
were times she behaved irrationally, like a very young child. But typically,
Tajani was loving and thoughtful.
Tajani took great pains when doing her
work. She proudly painted a Valentine’s Day card for her friends. Behind
her, the unidentified energy hovered. Tajani finished her picture, smiled,
and called to me. “Do you like my picture, Mrs. Young?” She held up the
pink and red heart for my approval.
I monitored the energy as I spoke.
“Wow, what an excellent job. I love those colors.”
Although, the energy wavering behind
her, I continued light conversation. “Tajani, who is going to get that
Her smile was brighter than ever.
“It’s for you, surprise!”
Many days Tajani’s presence gave me
strength. Nevertheless, each child was extraordinary in their own unique
That special picture was typical of
Tajani. She was the epitome of God’s love.
While living in the moment, I was not
compelled to go near, Tajani. Whoever it was—was not protecting her.
Rather, it was very fond of her and trusted me completely.
That afternoon my children enjoyed a
wonderful party. There were tasty sandwiches, delicious cookies, flavorful
chips and holiday music. The children shared and read their Valentine’s
Day Cards. Contagious smiles were everywhere.
That night I thought over the day’s
events. I wondered who the apparition was and what it wanted.
For the next three days, Tajani was
absent from school. Finally, I called her house to find out if she was sick.
I discovered that Tajani was losing a close family member and the family was
too fragmented to bring her to school.
Tajani’s Papaw lived in the same
house. He had been placed on hospice and funeral arrangements were being
made. Little did they know, Tajani’s Papaw was not bound by a sick host,
he was already free and roaming about. He was able to do something he
couldn’t do in life, which was, play with his precious granddaughter.
Later, I learned that Tajani had spent
every afternoon at her Papaw’s side. She read to him and showed him
pictures she drew at school. I also learned that Tajani was her Papaw’s
only grandchild. Because he married late in life he was of great age when
she was born. His love for her was staggering.
On the evening Mr. Robertson passed
away, his daughter called me. “Mrs. Young,” she said, tearfully. “Dad
is leaving now. Tajani wanted us to call you and let you know.”
I was in a crowded nail salon. Several
people were waiting to be served, including me. I held my cell phone to my
ear. “I’m sorry to hear about your Dad. If there’s anything I can do
please let me know.” Tajani’s Mom went on with her conversation. “Dad
thought a lot of you, because you were Tajani’s teacher.”
“Really,” I said, gleefully.
“I’m happy to know that.” I picked up my purse and walked outside the
She added, “Dad always wanted to walk
Tajani to class. She was his only grandchild, you know.”
“Oh,” I said, holding the small
cell phone closely to my ear. “Yeah. When she’d go to school he often
said, he wished he could go to school with her.”
“Wow.” My brows arched with
interest. “Really.” In the back of my mind revelations started to take
place. Mr. Robertson really did come to school to visit his granddaughter.
As I recalled the visit, everything about that day fell into place.