For the Birds, Ashley Alongi

There are certain things a parent remembers from the child’s younger years. These memories stay with them and they often take them at face value. Lately though my parents have begun to understand that not everyone of those childhood moments of mine were like they seemed.
One particular moment was in kindergarten. The golden years of firsts. Many of my firsts happened in Ms. Eichner’s classroom. The first day of school, losing my first tooth, the first time I learned that not everyone was as smart as I was. But that’s a different story.
This story is about the day I cried in class. I wasnt upset about anything and couldn’t understand why it was happening, I just began to cry. They wasn’t any sobbing involved or loud noises. No sniffling or anything. The were just steady streams of tears coming from what seemed endless. Somehow Ms.Eichner , probably with those eyes in the back of her head she'd told us saw much about, saw . She motioned for her TA to take over while she lead me to the back off the room . Bending down to my level she sweetly asked me what was wrong.
In my five year old mind I knew a simple answer of “ I don’t know” would not satisfy her and would cause her to pry further. Maybe even take me to the “everything is sunshine and rainbows” guidance counselor who might have caused me to cry for real. I looked her in the eyes and simply replied “ My bird died”
She bought it. She gave me a hug, handed me a tissue and told me everything would be okay. At the end of the day she even told my mom, who offered the same support.
It hadn’t been a total lie though. My bird had died. A week before. And I wasn’t really upset about it. I actually didn’t care that much. But for the moment everyone was satisfied and I saw no reason to ruin
that.
Afterwards I often thought about telling my mother the truth, but as we walked home together I thought “its not like she’ll ever remember....”