Age 12

She was the nicest person I’d ever met. Still is. She cared about children, people. She just wanted to help. She wanted to make the world a better place and she did. For me. For a lot of kids.

Her name was Mrs. Safford. I think her first name was Jean. I’ve tried to find her, but that was so many years ago. She was a tiny woman. She wore tiny shoes and her heels clicked as she walked. A staccato beat which is funny, because there was nothing staccato about her. Except her shoes.

She was always smiling. It was a real smile. There was nothing fake about her. Her smile would warm the room. Her smile would warm my heart, which was just about impossible back then.

Sometimes, when it seems like there is nothing but darkness in the world, I think back to a time when it was even darker. A time when I was more alone than I’d ever been. A time when I could have disappeared and never come back, had it not been for Mrs. Safford.