urn。

The　rest　of　the　afternoon　blurred　into　one　long　endless　repetition。　Finally　the　bell　rang　as　a　relief。　As　she　led　her　students　out　the　door　they　walked　behind　her　as　baby　chicks3　returning　to　their　fold。　She　noticed　that　their　mother　hens　clucked　to　them　behind　the　iron　gate。　As　she　proceeded　to　walk　down　the　corridor；　the　air；　which　rose　with　the　musical　tingle　of Spanish　coloring　everything　that　touched　it；　greeted　her。　She　watched　with　a　touch　of　envy　as　the　children　left　her　to　return　to　those　homes　that　probably　were　filled　with　laughter　and　warmth　while　she　would　once　again　return　to　the　same　endless　march　of boredom。

“Senora；　un　momento　por　favor？”　she　turned　her　head　and　noticed　the　small　shriveled　man；　his　brown　face　lined　with　a　map　to　places　only　he　knew。　“Thanks　for　helping　my　grandson　Julio　to　read。”　the　gentleman　said　in　his　faltering　broken　English。　She　immediately　thought　of　Julio；　who　once　as　unreachable　as　a　hardened　walnut；　slowly　cracked　opened　to　reveal　the　eager　child　inside。　She　thought　of　the　inner　struggle　Julio　must　have　had　as　he　tried　to　make　sense　of　the　foreign　letters　and　the　sudden　joy　when　he　had　unbroken　the　mysterious　code。　Was　the　grandfather　the　same？　She　looked　up　at　this　elderly　gentleman；　probably　his　grandfather；　and　quickly　recognized　the　sameness　of　the　two。　“Gracias　Senora”　a　weathered　hand　came　out　and　firmly　grasped　hers　with　warmth　that　radiated　from　his　soul　to　hers。　Just　as　abruptly　he　removed　his　hand　and