Under the words, a seldom seen thinning swirl of chalk dust clung to the blackboard’s surface, emphasizing what day it was. As Declan Chambers took to the seventh row to find his seat, he heard the first of many whispers. A buzz of excitement was beginning, and he felt an anxious tingle inside. As much as he tried to dismiss the day and push it away, for fear of disappointment, he couldn’t help but let himself feel some of what was spreading throughout the class. From face to face, he scanned the classroom, and saw smiles adjoined with cupped hands over attentive ears. Gleeful whispers grew into a fevered chatter of children’s voices—some young, and some old. All were anticipating the announcement; even Ms. Gilly seemed to sit a little taller in her aging chair. Her hands were clasped together and resting on her desk, with fingers interlaced so tightly, that her knuckles turned white. And unlike most days, her hair was fixed high in a bonnet of heavy dark curls, making her look younger than she was.
