My Nick

Christmas 2013 was my first Christmas at Johnsonville. About two weeks before leaving for Christmas break, my mom asked if there was a student whose family needed gift-assistance. We were given the opportunity to help one of the students in the self-contained special education classroom. His name was Nick. I must admit that I don’t remember much about Nick before that Christmas, but since that Christmas Nick has become “My Nick” and I have grown to love him very much.

The first year of buying for Nick’s family was hard. I knew very little about him or his family and we had very little information to go by. Yet we bought what we could and prayed that God would bless it.

Since Nick was on my radar screen by spring semester, I asked him to join Harnett Off-Broadway. He did. He was faithful in his practicing and he showed up for the big performance. Granted, he showed up having not eaten and my family ended up buying him a snack and soda from the vending machines. But still. He was there. And I was so very proud of him. Truthfully, he was the first special needs student I’d ever asked to perform at Harnett Off-Broadway.

I started noticing Nick in class, too. He’s really very smart. He pays attention to what is being taught and absorbs the information that teachers want all of their students to absorb. I remember one particular lesson last year when Nick was the only student in his class who could answer the question I was asking. His words weren’t exactly easy to understand, yet still, I was so very proud of him. He had already started becoming “My Nick.”

I don’t remember the exact point of possession when Nick became mine, but he was mine all year this year. I hugged him most mornings when he got off the bus and checked on him many afternoons before going to car duty. Nick’s mom died this year. I visited the funeral home and his house with his other teachers and we made sure he had everything he needed as he grieved. My family adopted his family for Christmas again this past Christmas. We knew much more of what to buy. And once again, I asked Nick to join Harnett Off-Broadway. He and one of his classmates were some of the only students I asked to join me two years in a row. Nick’s main part was to play the E handbell. The E played on the syllable –kie of the word “cookie” in one of the songs. Nick asked if I’d take him a chocolate chip cookie on the night of the performance. The bakery didn’t have a chocolate chip cookie that day but they did have a chocolate chip scone. Nick didn’t care. He happily ate what he thought was a really fat cookie.

While Nick was still one of my best music students this year, his favorite thing to do with me was to answer the weekly art and/or character education question and receive a prize for his work each on Friday. He also got to help the other winners and me lead the Pledge and School Song on the morning announcements. Because Nick is “My Nick,” I may have selected his work more than anyone else’s and I may have given him special prizes. I may also have kept his work and turned it into a little book. Don’t fault me, though. If you knew Nick, you’d probably have done the same thing—especially since he answered the questions on his own time and truly did have some of the best drawings and written answers we received.

“My Nick” graduated today. When I thought about this reality last night, I cried. When I thought about this reality this morning when I got to school, I cried. When I watched him receive his certificate and listened to his awards, I cried. And then I went to his classroom one last time, bent down beside him as he played on the computer, patted him on the back and gave him a hug and said, “Hey Buddy. I’m proud of you. And I just wanted to tell you that I love you.” He looked up from his game, nodded his unique Nick nod, grabbed my hand, and said, “I love you, too.” I walked away from him before I started crying.

Realistically, I don’t know that I’ll see Nick again. I’ll do my best to find out how he’s doing and pray that he receives the education, speech therapy, and opportunities he deserves. But that’s not the same as seeing “My N” every school day and loving the mess out of him every opportunity I could. I find this reality very sad, and it makes getting out of school not as exciting as it once was as a kid.

When my mom asked about helping a family at Christmas two years ago, I had no idea that her simple inquiry would cause me to see a student that I may have otherwise never truly seen. And only did I see him, but I came to love him. I still love him. I will always love him. “My Nick” has blessed my life. And I will forever be grateful that Johnsonville brought us together and allowed us to share life…and a cookie.