On the desk in front of her lay her attendance book, her grade book, and a stack of lesson plans. Soon she would divide the first graders into two groups, a smaller group who seemed on the path to independent reading and might even be ready for second-grade primers by February, and a larger group who were mastering reading at a more predictable rate for six-year-olds. Margaret made notes on a pad as she considered each child’s progress, gazing out the windows along one side of her classroom from time to time. Outside, russet and bronze had displaced variegated green on most of the trees, and the sky, while still dazzling, was less glistening than in the summer months. October had arrived, and seemed to rush into full flame by its second day. Margaret had not been making conversation when she told Gray it was her favorite month. She looked forward to the season’s change every year. She scanned the classroom to make sure no child faltered in the task, knowing that some would produce more legible papers than others.
