Blue Cotton Work Shirts Stitched Together for a Spring Dance
“Albert was a man of quiet labor,” Principal Bradley continued. “He did not believe in empty words. When the winter budget was cut three years ago, and we could not afford to replace the damaged textbooks in the science department, Albert quietly came to my office. He handed me an envelope of cash to cover the cost, asking only that his name never be mentioned.”
A low murmur passed through the crowd of teachers standing near the back wall. One of the English teachers, Mrs. Gable’s sister, leaned forward, her mouth slightly open.
“He spent his weekends repairing the locker hinges that had been broken by careless hands,” Principal Bradley said, his eyes resting briefly on Gary. “He bought the salt for the icy walkways out of his own pocket when the school’s supply ran short, because he was worried one of you might slip and fall.”
I felt a cold tightness in my throat, but I kept my eyes fixed on the principal. The green fabric of my dress felt warm against my skin, like a hand resting on my shoulder.
