As we neared the village center, I looked to the right, expecting to see the school across an open field, but shops and homes had filled the horizon.  More people joined us, and when we reached the edge of town I quickened my step.  The school began to appear.  First the grounds, then the outlines of the buildings themselves.  With each step, my past came rushing toward me -- and then I stopped.

They were waiting for me at the front gate, garlands ready . . .

My former students . . .

Twenty-eight of them . . .

I blinked, then blinked again.  I couldn’t see.  My companions urged me onward, and I stumbled to life, kept walking, Sarah beside me.  The “boys” were lined up to greet me, one at a time.  As I approached the first man, he slipped a floral garland over my head and another over Sarah’s, then looked at me with hands raised and palms together.

“Namaste,” he said.  “Welcome.”

This excerpt is from:
And the light in their eyes

Written by:
Jerr Boschee

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