As we went for our daily walk, I reached out and grabbed her hand. I felt safe with her, and I had felt this way since we first met. Unbeknownst to her, underneath my boisterous personality, was a broken child who feared the world and trusted no one. Yet, her presence seemed to magically remove the fear and worry that filled my mind. As my little hand grasped hers, she gently squeezed it three times (I love you). I returned this gesture by squeezing her hand four times (I love you more). As always, a little smirk would come across her face as she gently squeezed my hand twice more (How much?). Then, with all the might that a five year old boy could have, I attempted to squeeze her hand tightly to show her just how much she meant to me.

My kindergarten experience was short lived…