Article December 17, 2001 Issue

A late-blooming Pansy

By Beverly Graham

Her Name Was Pansy. We met in a public school in North Carolina. She was a kindergartner. I was a reading volunteer. Her teacher had basically classified her as an unmotivated underachiever from a single parented home.

What I saw that first day in early September was a cute little girl with sparkling brown eyes, a ready smile, and a hairdo consisting of many puffy pigtails. She was definitely a people person, sociability being her most outstanding characteristic.

I felt a chubby, warm hand in mine as we headed for the study room, and knew that we had bonded right away. Armed with a staggering pile of puzzles, books, and word games geared to teaching kids to read, we began our journey through the kindergarten year. We were friends.