I thought that was the end of it. But kindness is the only thing more contagious than the flu in a first-grade classroom.
The following Monday, I unlocked my door and tripped over a bag.
It was a black garbage bag, smelling of fabric softener. Inside were five winter coats. Good ones. Brands I can’t afford.
There was a note scribbled on the back of a utility bill envelope: “My son said the library was low on stock. We don’t have much, but we have extras. – A Mom.”
By Wednesday, the janitor had wheeled in a second rack.
“Found it in the basement,” he winked. “Figured you’re expanding.”
By Friday, we had boots. We had snow pants. We had a box of hand warmers dropped off by the guys from the auto shop down the street.
The Mayor’s office called yesterday. They heard about the “Coat Teacher.” They wanted to come down, take a picture, maybe give me a certificate. They wanted to show how the “community is resilient.”
I told them no.
