In my last post, I added " ... and more goodness" but that story was so nice to me on its own that I saved the more goodness for this post. Because this same day had more than a sweet moment. On this day, I felt good to be a teacher. I felt like a good teacher. And I was happy to be their teacher.

As terrible as it sounds, these days aren't common. The seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days, the weeks ... usually rough. The big look-back moments, the future look-ahead moments are those of reflection and purpose, the the day-to-days are hard. I question where I am, what I am doing, who I am, and what is to become of me. I spend my days plagued with guilt for not being a good teacher. I spend the weekends trying to lick my wounds to build myself up for a long five days. I spend my morning drives blasting music, zoning out to talk radio, and prepping myself up like a coach in a locker room ... but to myself.

And then once every thousand moments like these, there is a happy breakthrough that, I think (I hope) makes it all worth the while and more. Today.

Nothing extraordinary happened, but then that would only be by most people's standards. For me, the extraordinary status comes with things that the world would usually overlook.

Because today my nonreader with severe learning and behavior disabilities worked by himself practicing motor skills and writing his letters at my handwriting table. Because this same student copied high frequency words for me on his lined paper. Because this student worked with another student to write, draw, and color flashcards to help him learn letters, pictures, and high frequency words (like a for apple).

Because two of my worst attitude problems showed kindness without reward (the story I already shared and one more).

Because four of my most troulesome (including the three aforementioned) ended their days on GREEN cards. Which never happens.

Because my kids made connections on a higher DOK level on their own, connecting not only ideas but also characters from stories throughout the year, our grammar trait of the week (pronouns) and our Amazing Words (weekly vocabulary words).

Because two of my most troublesome and most behind (same two from before) listened so well that I had them both corrected and independently answering two-digit addition problems with full confidence.

Because during a spelling game my students were fair, patient, and supportive of their classmates.

Because when two low students got math problems correct on the board their classmates congratulated them with applause, unprompted.

Because I had an IEP meeting for an extremely difficult case for me, and I came prepared with insight. I am praying that I can help this child. And hopefully now we can really help this smart boy so that he has the opportunity to succeed and be happy.

Because I saw Mia's dad and sisters and have a surprise for him (I have pictures of Mia from her last day in my class, smiling and hugging her classmates after school. I cried when I saw them. She looks beautiful.)

Because all my kids did the pledge of allegiance, student pledge, and class cheer with enthusiasm without my asking.

Because my kids were just awesome. Not all day, not at everything, but at the important things. We had yelling. We had troubles. We had conflicts. We had two (only 2) tantrums. But, students were engaged, working, and thinking.

All of my kids got candy at the end of the day. We earned points for a class part tomorrow. I have plastic eggs and jelly beans to help us practice our two-digit addition, and cheese puffs (we're learning ph, gh, ff "f" sounds this week).

And we have a class goal: every one gets 100% on the spelling test tomorrow.

I know what I am praying for today - a vote of confidence. I told my kids they are third graders now since we are in the last quarter, and they are embracing it. Like I said, it's not a miracle day. It wasn't a great week (I moped in bed all afternoon after the rough yesterday). But it was a day

They say an act of random kindness is what makes the world a more perfect place. One person does something nice without any expectations of a returned favor or praise, and the cycle of generosity improves the world in a domino effect. Not to get all cheesetastic on anyone, but I witnessed a worthy moment or two, sweet enough to belong in the Coca Cola commercials (cue: "If I Could Buy The World a Coke" jingle).

Today one of my most challenging, me-against-the-world (or at least Ms. Davis) students surprised me, and reminded me that goodness is sometimes masked by the hardships and scars inflicted by an unapologetic world.

It was a simple, sweet moment. One girl in my class came to school out of uniform today, so, as per protocol, the office gave her uniform clothing to wear. The pants she was given were too big and she had to hold them up throughout the day. No big deal in class, but difficult in gym class.

When I picked up my kids from gym class, the gym teacher shared this story with me. The girl's pants had been falling in gym class, but we didn't have anything to help her hold them up. She was holding them up the best they could, but they kept dragging throughout the class. At the end of gym class, the gym teacher saw this little boy (the usually-troubled student) buckling his belt.

She looked at him puzzled and then had a thought about the girl earlier. She asked him if he had given his belt to someone during class. "Well, she needed it. I didn't."

This little boy helped out this little girl for no reason except that it was the nice thing to do. He wasn't looking for praise or a reward. He just helped. I was so proud. I let him move his card back to green (because I am teaching that generosity pays off). In my class colored cards are our behavior tracker. Green is the best. This student NEVER stays on green more than a half hour into the school day.

For the first time all year, the boy kept his green card all day. He lent the girl his belt again at recess (he didn't tell me, I saw it when he didn't know I was looking). At the end of the day he got his piece of candy for his green card, and I got a hug and "Thank you, Ms. Davis."

It might seem small, but it was a true random act of kindness that we need more of in this world. It is an act of kindness I didn't used to see from my kids. It's something that I needed to remind me the strength of my kids: they look out for one another when it counts. They are children. They have hearts. They are good.