The girl half hopped and half ran into the room. The grubby hand, no doubt covered with snot from her ever running nose, clutched a clumsily wrapped gift. The buses had just dismissed, the kids told to sit along the wall outside the classroom until the teachers greeted them at the door. Still, Kylie obviously couldn’t wait, rushing past the other children into the classroom. Of course this act gave the others unspoken permission to enter. Miss Stevens barely had time to roll her eyes and elicit a sigh. Here goes the start to another Monday.

“Miss Stevens!” Kylie blurted as she reached her teacher, a huge cheesy grin plastered on her face. A distinct smell wafted from the child, a mixture of cigarette smoke and body odor from a weekend without a bath. “I got you something!” She stuck out the gift at Miss Stevens like it was either the most precious jewel in the world or a dirty tissue with a dead spider embedded.

“Thank you, Kylie,” Miss Stevens said, smiling at her impetuous student. Kylie was…interesting. Loud, abrasive to her classmates, and an academic outlier, Kylie struggled to make or keep friendships. Thankfully, first graders were mercifully forgiving towards these traits. In a few years, Miss Stevens worried how they would be perceived by Kylie’s peers.

By this time the hoard of students had descended upon Miss Stevens, each with bags of gifts for Teacher Appreciation Week. “Open mine! Here, Miss Stevens! You’re my favorite teacher!”

A polite chaos, an organized cacophony, something that needed to be controlled…Miss Stevens felt uncomfortable with any lack of decorum. Soon the students were back in order, unpacked and quietly working at the desks on their morning assignment. The pile of fancy bags and cards lay unopened on her desk. There was no doubt that most of the gifts were gift cards or expensive water bottles or bags of coffee—her class parents knew her well. Still her eyes rested on the grungy gift from Kylie wrapped in Christmas paper, even though it was May, and with way too much tape. An albatross, a misfit among the opulent.

She picked it up. The scent of Kylie still lingered on it. She looked up. Her class was focused and hard at work, just as she expected. Her finger hooked under the paper and popped the tape off the bottom. Turning it over in her hands she unwrapped the present, turning it again and again and again. Wow, this is a lot of paper, Miss Stevens chuckled to herself as she continued unwinding the gift, which was shrinking considerably in size. Finally, she had reached the prize: a smashed fudge stripe snack cake and a jar of lip balm. Twisting the cap off the balm, she noticed it was half empty, a single strand of hair trapped in the gooey substance.

Looking back up at the class, she noticed Kylie looking back at her, a proud smile plastered on her face. Tears began welling up in Miss Stevens’ eyes.

This gift was from the heart. While other children might not even know what they had given her, Miss Stevens knew this gift from Kylie was hand chosen for her teacher, for an adult she trusted, that she relied upon, one of her only models of stability. Kylie loved her and needed her.

She accepted the gift, feeling a swirl and mix of feeling inside of. Miss Stevens reciprocated Kylie’s heartfelt smile with one of her own before turning away to dab the tears trickling down her face. Sometimes children teach me more than I could ever teach them, she thought, a sentiment echoed by countless teachers everywhere.