Besides, I have to rest my back when you have your class. "I do not want a pack of children teaching me how to read," she said. I never have anyone to read with, so Monsieur Augustin always pairs me off with an old lady who wants to learn her letters, but does not have children at the school." "I like everything but those reading classes they let parents come to in the afternoon. She bent down and kissed my forehead, then pulled me down onto her lap. "How was school?" she asked, with a big smile. When I stood in front of her, she opened her arms just wide enough for my body to fit into them. When Tante Atie saw me, she raised the piece of white cloth she was embroidering and waved it at me. I put the card back in my pocket before I got to the yard. They would be burned that night at the konbit potluck dinner. The leaves had been left in the sun to dry. When I turned the corner near the house, I saw her sitting in an old rocker in the yard, staring at a group of children crushing dried yellow leaves into the ground. I pressed my palm over the flower and squashed it against the plain beige cardboard. A flattened and drying daffodil was dangling off the little card that I had made my aunt Atie for Mother's Day.
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