Friday morning finds you sitting on your porch, enjoying a cup of rooibos tea with honey and cream. You hold your careworn mug in both hands, feeling the residual warmth of its smooth sides. As you listen to the local carpenter bees taking interest in the holly tree out front, you close your eyes, taking a deep breath.
You hear a chorus of bike bells from the front walk, and you open your eyes to see DeAndre, Jayda, and their Dads, all waving to you. The kids drop their bikes in your yard and come scrambling up your front steps.
You say, “Good morning!”
Jayda says, “Good morning! Is your Mom around?”
You shake your head and say, “Not today. She lives in another town, so she went back home after she came to visit.”
The two kids look at each other, reaching a silent consensus.
DeAndre asks, “Will you come to Moving Up Day with us?”
Jayda adds, “It starts at 11:00. You will need your bike.”
You say, “Yes, I would love to join you. Can you tell me more about Moving Up Day?”
Jayda says, “We all go to visit our new schools. We ride our bikes, and we get to have lunch, and then we get to make some art!”
You say, “That sounds great. Where should I meet you?”
One of the Dads yells from the sidewalk, “Just come to the Care Center. They’re in Pre-K. We’re gonna ride to the elementary school.”
You say, “Got it! Okay, see you at 11. I guess I need to go get dressed.”
DeAndre says, “You can wear pajamas if you want to.”
The kids and their Dads depart again, with another chorus of bike bells, and you finish the last sips of your tea. You also send a text to your Mom, letting her know that the kids came looking for her.
When you pull up in front of the Care Center just before 11, there is a happy mob of parents outside, mingling with older residents from the Center. There are tables set up with coffee, tea, lemonade, and mini croissants from the French bakery. In the crowd, you run into Elise, the piano teacher, who reaches out for your hand and gives you an affectionate squeeze.
An energetic younger man stands up on a chair behind the tables and calls out, “Good morning, Pre-K families and friends!” The crowd calls back, “Good morning, Jed!”
Jed continues, “We will be on our way to Catto Elementary in just a moment. But before we go, I ask all of you to join me in a moment of silent reflection, followed by a round of applause. Our teachers and staff give their hearts and souls to these kids. The residents of the Care Center join us in loving your children every day. Please take a moment to think about a moment this year when you truly felt the love of this community, and then join me in appreciating the people who helped make that happen for all of us.”
Jed says, “Thank you. Okay, please make way for the Jubilee Station Care Center graduating class of 2025!”
The kids file out of the front doors of the Children’s House wing of the Care Center in twos and threes, already wearing their bike helmets. There are nearly 50 graduates, and their bikes are lined up in a shaggy row on the far side of the entrance courtyard. The crowd parts to make way for the kids, most of whom break into a run when their bikes are in sight.
A great cheer goes up in the distance, and Jed calls out, “That’s the kids from Catto going to middle school, which means… it’s our turn! Graduates, take us away!”
The Pre-K kids begin wobbling their way toward the exit. Some of them still have training wheels, but most have learned to balance for themselves. DeAndre races out to a quick start, passing everyone else, but he pauses in the street to wait when Jayda calls out to him, “DeAndre, we go together!”
Octavius Catto Elementary School is a short three blocks away from the Care Center, on Chamberlain Street in the west end of town. Along the route, there are people sitting on the edges of the street, cheering and ringing cowbells. Out in front of Catto, the students who will stay there next year are waiting to greet the newest kindergarteners, having just sent their own graduating fifth graders off to ride up to the middle school. Meanwhile, the 8th graders are heading from the middle school to the high school, and the 12th graders are journeying from the high school to the college.
The Catto students roar with excitement when DeAndre, Jayda, and their classmates turn onto Chamberlain Street. When they arrive, the pre-K graduates run into their new home. Parents and neighbors gather outside the school for a picnic lunch under a tent. Jayda and DeAndre’s Dads find you in the tangle of bikes on the lawn.
One of them says, “Hello, You. I’m Kevin. Thanks so much for coming out.”
You say, “Thanks for inviting me. This is awesome.”
The other Dad says, “I couldn’t agree more! Hi, I’m Chris. Will you join us for lunch?”
You say, “Yes, I think I worked up a real hunger with that arduous journey.”
After lunch, the adults are invited into the school, where the Pre-K kids are in the kindergarten classrooms, making pictures to bring back to their teachers at the Care Center. You find a place to sit and a piece of construction paper of your own. While the kids finish up their work, you draw yourself and your Mom on your porch. You write at the bottom, “To Jayda and DeAndre, thanks again for our Mother’s Day treats!”
Finally, it’s time to head back. The Pre-K entourage rides to the Care Center, where the teachers and staff are waiting outside.
After Jayda and DeAndre have given their drawings to their teacher, you find them and give them your drawing. They say, “Did you make this for us?”
You say, “Yes, I did! Thanks so much for inviting me to join you.”
They run off to join their friends at the lemonade table, which has been restocked in your absence with cupcakes. You stand in the midst of the crowd, parents chatting, toddlers clambering over their parents’ bikes, and take a slow and easy breath.
Your Mom texts you and says, “I miss those kids, and you! Please tell them I say hi back.”