“I can’t go home with a report card like this. You don’t know what will happen,” I couldn’t feel my face but I was crying. “It’s not his fault. He was raised that way.” Mrs. R. didn’t say anything, just sat there, rubbing my back. I couldn’t hear the clock anymore, just Mrs. R.’s soft breath and the sound of a robin singing outside.
This showed how a young Jesse had come to understand his grandfather and how his own upbringing had hardened him. And also the kindness of a teacher.
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