155 days….

It’s been hard to come here tonight….

This morning, during my first class I found out that one of the little boys I teach had an awful accident: yesterday afternoon after school, he climbed into the rafters of his house then fell and hit his head on the concrete floor.  There was bleeding on his brain.  He didn’t wake up at home nor when the ambulance arrived.

He is currently in hospital in an induced coma.

At this point in time, I’m not sure if he will live.

This little boy is ten years old.  He comes from a house where there is very little care and attention given to the children (and yet at the same time, I feel badly for the mother who has no support and no idea how to cope).  He and his younger brother were recently diagnosed with autism (although I think it is high functioning variety).  He isn’t a pleasant child but I put this down to the care he received at home being so lax and the language used being so awful:  the children are sworn at from dawn to dusk so it’s no surprise that anger and swearing are their weapons of choice when faced with a challenge.

Even so, he is one of the boys that make me want to be a teacher – if I can be the one person in his life who is stable, who cares about whether he is learning or what happens to him, then I will have made a difference.

When I heard what had happened to him, I was in his younger brother’s classroom. I had to spend several minutes  carefully studying a poster on the classroom wall as I tried so hard not to cry but even so  I did end up letting a fat tear roll down my cheek.

The younger brother has very little idea of the seriousness of his brother’s condition, although I suspect he is aware that things aren’t looking good: his behaviour today was compliant and calm which is completely out of character for a little boy who is generally at odds with the world.

This accident was another senseless thing in a sea of senseless things that seem to surround my world right now.

I just pray that his little brain can shrug this off.  That he will recover as fully as possible.

I don’t know if I can take more sadness right now….


I want to hold you so badly right now.

I love you so much.