The Life of a School Counselor

Work is my play. It's a time to be with people and laugh and sing, and teach children how to love themselves. Work is my sword. It's heart-felt, and natural, and exciting as things are always being thrown at me. Work is my life. Here is an example of what could happen and did: One time a particularly needy urchin wanted to see me on a daily basis and probably on weekends. His teacher was eager to send him, for when she did, she could get a little teaching done. He was darling, but he did not know it. No one at his house had told him. The nineteenth day he showed up, I said, "I'm sorry, but unless someone in your house died, I cannot see you today." A really smart thing for a school counselor to say, for guess what? He said, "Someone did die." I apologized profusely, wrapped him in my arms, and plunked him onto my lap as we fell into my office chair. "I am so sorry, I said. "Who died?" "My uncle." "When did this happen?" "I don't know. We haven't found the body yet." "Then how do you know he died?" "We went to his house on Saturday and we knocked and knocked. Then we looked down and Mom said, "See that cat food dish? It's empty. Your uncle must be dead." Try to keep a straight face now, folks, because that is what I had to do. Then I telephoned Mom, and let her tell her son the miracle, that Uncle was alive.