"Sam"

On Thursday afternoon, my fifth period English class piled into the classroom. There was a vocabulary test and a student we'll call "Sam" was visibly upset. She came into my class asking for a candy bar (I had been selling them for a fundraiser my journalism students are doing). She offered me her dollar a few times and I told her I had sold out. Sam wasn't satisfied with this answer so she marched over to her desk, shot a nasty remark my way, and put her head down. At this point my awareness alarm was going off, and I made my way to Sam's desk to ask her what was wrong. She said she "just wanted a candy bar" and that she missed her lunch today. I knew it was something more, but I didn't want to pry. As the rest of the class concentrated on reviewing for their test, I fished through my desk for my Ghiradelli chocolate stash. I pulled two out, walked over to Sam and placed them on her desk. "How much for those?" she asked hopefully. "It's on me" I replied and left them with her. A few minutes later I made my way back to her desk and noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. I exempted Sam from the test with the understanding that she would make it up next week. When the bell rang Sam told me that she just attended her Uncle's funeral yesterday. She didn't even know why she was in school today.