Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Adam Blake - 60. Chapter 60
Monday morning came too fast. I did get to run before leaving for school. It was amusing to see some of the students who were walking back from the running track, stopping and waving. I smiled and beeped my horn. When I got out of the car, Ralph was waiting for me. “How did you sleep this weekend?”
“I had the best sleep ever, I sent a letter to my parents and they sent a letter for you from them.” He handed me a sealed envelope. “They also sent some cookies, I have some for you. Our cook made a package of our traditional cookies and I’ll bring them to you at dinner time if that is ok sir?”
“Yes, it's fine Ralph, I know I’ll appreciate the cookies but your parents didn’t have to do that. Knowing you are sleeping better, and wide awake, is payment enough. But I’m sure I’ll enjoy the cookies. I’ll send a letter to your parents thanking them.”
We walked into school, with my hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to drop this off at the office and then I’m going to get a cup of coffee. If you have time join me, my treat.”
“Good morning, James coffee?”
“Good morning Doc., I see you have a tag.”
“I promised Ralph my treat this morning.” He just smiled at me. I got a coffee, he went to the machine for a juice, I beat him with the coins before he could deposit his, “My treat”.
There’s nothing like seeing a respectful smile in the morning. We sat at the Knight’s table and I noticed someone had started to paint the Oath. So far everything looked good. “Ralph, I have to get busy, so have a great morning and I’ll see you at dinner.”
I took my cup back to the kitchen, “Where’s my artist, I don’t see him?”
“I’m sorry sir, he worked late last night on the oath so I didn’t wake him to come to work.”
“Don’t be sorry, you did what any mother would do. How far do you live from here?”
“We have a small farm about 4 miles from here.”
“And he walked home after spending time here painting?”
“Yes sir.”
“When he comes in today, have him bring some extra clothes, he can stay in one of the student dorms until the painting is finished.”
I watched as a loving mother’s face beamed with pride.
I left the cafeteria, but before I went to the office, I stopped to see how Mr. Rusello was doing on the painting. I was amazed at how much he had done and from his outline, how much he had to do. This will be a long project but for him but it’ll be a project of love. Just think of being able to create a special memory in a mural that every time you look at it, you’ll remember.
“James, what do you think about the school offering a scholarship to deserving youth?”
“It’s a noble idea but will the trustees go for it.”
“I’m not sure, but it might be worth a try. I’ll mention it in this month’s report.”
“Did they always send a report to the trustees? I looked for some and couldn’t find any?”
“I’m not sure but if you couldn’t find any then I suppose the answer is no. That doesn’t mean they didn’t communicate with the trustees. I think our method is better, we have a history of what we send that may be of value someday.”
“You could use them to write a history of the school when you retire. If you offered a scholarship, how would you fund it? Contributions from the trustees?”
“I have been wondering what to do with the money we recover from the investigation. Maybe I could use that.”
I needed more time to think about that. I read Ralph’s letter from his mother. She said she was grateful that the school took the time to address his medical problem, which she had been unaware of. She offered her help in any way and hope I enjoyed the cookies. “James, I need to send a thank you letter to Ralph’s parents. They sent this box of cookies from their home to me, er to us. Can you get their address, this letter his mother sent does not have a return address.”
While he did that, I wrote a response to Ralph’s parents. As I was writing, I thought I bet they would appreciate a letter from the school, telling them what’s happening or will happen and a comment about their son. I gave my letter to James who will mail it for me.
The morning seemed to move fast. Marie called to give me the name of a doctor who might be interested in the open position. I needed to address the vacancy of the Director of Music which included the art department. I remember my high school, we had separate teachers for each group and I think that would make sense here as well. I knew that all of the students had to take art and music, which was necessary. Appreciation of art and music is what they were trying to teach here.
James dumped a bunch of mail on my desk, some of it was garbage, I marked it so, knowing I’ll never see anything from that company again. I separated the mail into two groups, mail from the trustees and architect and mail from the families of the students. Of course, I open the family mail first. “James, can you take dictation?”
“Are you seriously asking me to be a secretary?” We both laughed, except on a rare occasion, he has been anything but a secretary.
“I have all of these family letters and I must respond. Could we do that?”
“Sure and I have pictures of the medal ceremony, we could include that.”
“I didn’t know you took a picture.”
“When you placed the medal on the boys, I took a picture”
“Then we must include a picture in each letter. You’ll have to keep track of the ones we send so we don’t duplicate.”
So for the rest of the morning, we answered parents' letters. “We need to put together a scrapbook with these letters. Then when they leave the school, we can give them their book.”
“That’s a great idea. Let’s do it starting now. If you need help, get one of the other secretaries to help. We can’t all depend on Jane and I also want to have a staff meeting. That we should do once a week, at least to start with.”
I felt I did some school work this morning rather than put out fires. It was an enjoyable morning.
Lunch, I should call it dinner, was always interesting for me. I sat there and listened to the various discussions and comments. This afternoon, it was about the painting on the wall between the windows. It was going to be a significant piece of work for a young man and perhaps he may be the first recipient of the school’s scholarship. I’d bet under the tutelage of Mr. Rusello, we’ll have another great artist.
“Have any of you shared your medal with your family?”
I knew some had, but I was surprised that they all did. “My dad sent me a letter, he said he was very proud of me and that he knew I’d live up to that oath.” You could see how proud the boy felt, these students feel a distance from their parents which is only natural. So news and support from them in terms of a letter is important. It’s the only tangible tie they have.
That comment opened the floor. It seemed that everyone had told their parents and received some form of encouragement. I again urged them to go for seconds, I wanted this to be their main meal. On the way out I spoke to some of the staff and mentioned weekly staff meetings. They thought that would be a good idea, so we sat Friday afternoon after classes were over.
Back in the office, “James, that lad doing the painting in the dining room needs a dorm room until the painting is finished. Can you assign one please?”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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