Name_____________________________________Date________________________
Reading Comprehension
Volume 3, Number 34, June 11, 1998
www.rhlschool.com
Charlton Moves On, Conclusion
. . . It
was cool and cloudy on the last morning of the school year. The
children in Miss Joan’s class had just finished their party.
. . . “Children,
it’s almost time for you to leave,” Miss Joan said.
“I’m very proud of you all. You’ve been
wonderful kindergarten students, but now you’re all first
graders. That’s right, when I walk you to the bus this time,
I’ll be walking with first grade students. Have a happy and
safe summer vacation, girls and boys. I’ll miss every one of
you.”
. . . The
buzzer buzzed its “time to go home” buzz. Miss Joan
nodded with a sad smile and her children lined up at the classroom door
for the last time. As she walked to the door to lead them out, the
children broke from the line. There were many hugs and good-byes and
thank yous and tears.
. . . Charlton
grasped Miss Joan’s hand and pushed his lowered head against
her arm. Miss Joan whispered, “Charlton, wait here.
I’m going to drive you home today.”
. . . Charlton
looked surprised, but he walked to his seat without saying a word.
. . . When
Miss Joan returned to the classroom, she walked over to Charlton. She
knelt down, resting her arms on his desk. “I’ve
been talking with your foster parents. I know that they’ve
already told you that you’ll be moving to your new home
today. If it’s alright with you, I’m going to help
you move.”
. . . “I
wish I could just go home with you,” Charlton replied.
. . . “I
understand you never even asked them about your new home.”
. . . “It
doesn’t really matter. I know they won’t keep me
that long.”
. . . “Charlton,
I know your new foster mother. She’s going to keep you as
long as she can.”
. . . Charlton
didn’t reply.
. . . “Do
you know why I know so much about your new foster mother?”
Miss Joan went on.
. . . “Because
you called her to warn her about me?”
. . . “She
didn’t need to be warned. She knows you very well.
She’s been your teacher for a whole year.”
. . . Charlton
jumped up from his seat and hugged Miss Joan. She smiled and said,
“I couldn’t have told you too much sooner than now.
I didn’t get the final permission from your social worker
until just a few days ago.”
. . . Charlton
turned away quickly so that Miss Joan wouldn’t see him wipe
tears from his eyes. “I’ll get my stuff,”
he said, as he ran to pick up the bag he had left by the door.
. . . Miss
Joan joined Charlton at the door and reached for his extended hand.
They walked down the hall and out the main door. The sun had come out
and the day was pleasantly warm.
. . . Charlton
looked up at Miss Joan. “Miss Joan, do you have a
dog?”
. . . Miss
Joan sighed. “No, Charlton, I don’t have a dog. But
maybe we will have to get one.”
. . . They
walked to a little blue sedan that was waiting at the far end of the
parking lot. Miss Joan made sure her foster son was properly secured in
the back seat, and then they rode off into the future.
Copyright 1998 RHL