Chestnuts

Yesterday morning, I sat in my classroom office (yes, I have an office in my classroom.  It's a rarity, and I love it).  My morning routine usually involves only turning on one small light in the classroom, and the light in my office.  I don't want to be shocked in the day.  I just want to ease into it.

Anyway, as I sat at my desk doing various pre-school activities, a woman came into my office.  She's a T.A. at our school, and I've come to know her well.  She was the T.A. two years ago in my friend Jan's classroom, and last year in my friend Allie's classroom (Hi, Allie!).  Both of those years, my class teamed up to be reading buddies with the class where she was a T.A.

It's pretty unusual to see her on our wing of the school.  We're kind of isolated on a fourth and fifth grade island, and she works on the second and third grade island. 

She softly said, "Good morning.  Do have a few minutes?"  I always feel like that second sentence is loaded.  I use it myself, so I know how it is to be on the other end delivering it.  Sometimes it's a serious matter, oftentimes it ends up being an emotional matter.   

"Sure," I said hesitantly.  As I said that, she held out a fisted hand like she wanted me to open my hand to receive something.  But she pulled her hand back when she started her story.  "I don't know if I ever told you this story, but I've always liked Chestnut trees," she shyly explained.  "Growing up, there was a Chestnut tree on the way to my school.  When I would walk to school, my friends and I would always pick up the chestnuts.  That tree evokes such great memories for me."

"But now," she further explained, "The neighborhood has really changed.  The Chestnut tree is gone, and a lot of the houses have changed or have been torn down and rebuilt." 

She went on to tell me that recently she went back to her hometown to visit her mother's and father's graves.  "But before I went to the cemetery, I took a drive around the neighborhood.  The house next door to the one I grew up in was having a garage sale [she LOVES garage sales] so I stopped by.  As I got to talking with the people who were having the garage sale, they convinced me to go next door to see my old house."

So she did.  She told me that the people were really generous and invited her into the house to look around.  The house was the only one that had "Cemetery Road" as its address.  She described to me the backyard and how it butted up to a cemetery.  She said that she went into the backyard and walked toward the cemetery.  "As I walked toward the cemetery, I felt something crunching beneath my feet.  I looked down, and there were chestnuts.  I looked up, and I saw that there was a chestnut tree there that hadn't been there before.  I felt right at home.  For one, I WAS home.  For two, the chestnuts spurred so many good memories of home, my neighborhood, and my friends."

"So I think chestnuts are magical," she said while putting out her fisted hand again.  "And I wanted to give this to you."  I held out my hand, and she dropped a little chestnut into my palm.  "I don't know if you'll think it's hokey, but I wanted to give this to you."

With tears in my eyes after giving her a big hug, I told her about the house I grew up in, and that at the end of the street there was a small park with a huge Chestnut tree.  My friends and I would spend a lot of time in that park, picking up chestnuts, cutting our hands on the thorny husks, and collecting the nuts inside.  A lot of memories flooded back to me.  It was all bittersweet as I told her about my house and neighborhood.  My brother and sister-in-law bought the house I grew up in from my parents.  I was able to get back to see the house and the neighborhood on a regular basis until recently.  They sold the house in August.  I'm lucky that I had a more extended time than most people to see the house take shape under another family and watch the neighborhood do the same under new neighbors.

I kept the chestnut in my pocket the whole day.  It was still in my pocket when I went to get blood drawn and to see my doctor.  My doctor delivered some great news.  The CT scan I had taken last weekend showed major shrinking of the tumors.  He was really pleased.

Chestnuts.  Memories.  Family.  Friends.  Good news.  Love.