My sweet little 1st grade penpal

I'm in the National Society of Collegiate Scholars, or NSCS, and one of our community outreach projects was a penpal program.  Completely voluntary, those of us who were interested were each paired with a 1st grader a few months ago.  Every few weeks, we'd receive new letters from our kids, and our community outreach "leader" would deliver our letters to their school.   Towards the end of the semester, we found out that the kids' school was hosting a penpal meetup reception, so the other week I got to meet the penpal I've been corresponding with this semester.

My penpal's name was Kiley, and we wrote about school, pets, siblings, favorite things to do, summer plans.... all kinds of things.  Each of her letters had a drawing, as she told me she loved to draw.  I loved being a mentor to her, and I could tell by her questions that I was making an impact on her life.  I was so, so excited for the reception when I would meet her for the first time, but it was bittersweet since the penpal program would be ending for the year and I knew I may never talk to her again.

When I got there, Kiley's friends informed me that she was "absent" that day.  I was so disappointed, but since most of our NSCS penpal program members didn't attend, I immediately gained a handful of "pretend" penpals.  We shared cookies and juice, and their eyes lit up at each new thing I told them about myself. I got a kick out of hearing them tell me about about Hannah Montana and argue over who had the most Webkinz.

At the reception, both penpals and students got to receive their "pal's" last letter.  Apparently, the kids had written theirs the day before, so I still got Kiley's.  I was so upset when I read her words - she loved being my penpal, sorry she couldn't be there for the reception, and then, something that killed me inside - said she had a very hard life.  A 1st grader.  Distressed, I talked to her teacher about it, and apparently her parents were in the midst of a divorce.  

I continued having fun with my "pretend" penpals, and while we were having our lighthearted discussions, one girl said, "Hey Kiley!" and the others turned their heads and echoed.   I looked up and there was a little girl, ushered by her mom.  I introduced myself and asked if she was Kiley __.  She said yes, and I excitedly told her I was her penpal!  I had her join us, and I could tell she was shy and maybe a little troubled so I escorted her up to the refreshment table and told her how excited I was to meet her.  Apparently she had been at her Cleveland doctor's office all day in an appointment for her arthritis.  Coupled with what her teacher told me, I immediately bonded further with her knowing she had a childhood illness just as I did at her age.  I recalled all the days Mom would sign me out early and take me up to Cleveland.  I remembered the loads of makeup work I'd have each time I had to go into the hospital.  I showed Kiley so much love, and I was grateful in my heart that we were paired together, not believing it was pure coincidence.

Having a penpal for a semester was so rewarding, even more rewarding than I could have ever dreamed.  The reception was so great because I got to finally meet her and share with her and her mother how I, too, had a chronic childhood illness.  I got to encourage Kiley about her schooling, her life, her summer, and of course I listened with a smile when the other girls shared their dreams with me as well.

Children are so innocent yet so deep.  They're full of lessons we could never learn in school, by reading a book, or from other adults.  They hold it all inside their tiny precious hearts, little hearts the world has not yet completely ravaged.

It's an honor to know children, even more-so an honor to get to spend a May afternoon with my new friends.