October 16, 2007
Sara was eight years old, shy and kind. She was a good girl, who lived in the suburbs of New York. She was beautiful, smart, and talented; she always did what she was supposed to do. She loved school, her friends, her teachers, her bike and her parents. Sara was almost perfect. Yes, she ate her vegetables and loved to read and was very physically active but there was one thing that was not perfect about her.

“Sara, come down for breakfast,” said her mother

Sara hurried down the steps, excited for the first day of school. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink blouse with a pink headband and her long black hair combed and neat, coming down to the middle of her back. Her mother had a plate for her with blueberry pancakes and toast on the side with a glass of skim milk. Sara reached for the sugar free syrup, making sure only to put on the amount on the nutrition facts so that she knew what is going into her body.

“Sara, remember to mind your manners at school today,” said her mother.

Sara nodded politely and picked up her plate and placed it into the sink. Then she got her step stool, rinsed her plate, and placed it quietly and carefully into the dishwasher.
She was going to a new school today, a school where she knew that everyone would be absolutely nice, kind, sharing, loving, smart, and courteous.

Sara’s mother took her purse and key and iPhone while Sara put on her pink flower book bag. They walked together outside into the driveway where the navy blue car was parked. Sara waited for her mother to unlock the car by waiting at the handle of the backseat door. The blinkers went off and Sara quickly opened the door, put on her seatbelt, and closed the door. Her mother, following her, did the same. Her mother adjusted the mirrors, watching Sara in the back seat. Sara smiled and her mother smiled back. The car drove slowly off of the driveway.

“It’s your first day,” her mother started to cry. “You’re growing up so fast!”
Sara smiled politely again, feeling embarrassed even when no one was there. The car was on the highway heading towards the school. It was like a castle-like the ones Sara had seen when she was little, in one of her fairytale books.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Sara nodded her head, because there was nothing in the world that she had seen more beautiful than her school. Her mother parked the car and went inside with her walking to see where her classroom was. A secretary said that Sara was in Mrs. Tree’s class, and they were looking forward to having her. Then the secretary pointed them to the classroom. Her mother walked to the door, grasping her daughter’s hand tightly, as if she was never going to be able to again.

“Is this Mrs. Tree’s classroom?”

The teacher nodded, looked at the child and smiled.

“I love you Sara, be good for mommy, okay?” her mother said.

Sara nodded her head and gave her mother a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Her mother left her at the classroom and started down the hallway. When she looked back her daughter, Sara waved her hand goodbye and went into the classroom.

Later that day, her mother was getting ready to pick up Sara from school. She was walking towards the front door when there was a knock. The mother opened the door and saw the police officer standing on her doorstep.

“Are you Sara Winherd’s mother?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s me, May I help you officer?” the mother answered
“Your daughter, Sara, died today at school,” he replied, sadly. “She was the deaf one, right?” he said.
Her mother nodded, and closed the door.

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