Monday morning, the classroom smelled faintly of glue and colored pencils. On the board, in neat handwriting, was written: “Mission #04 – Create Christmas cards for the elderly.” Ms. Larsen brought out a box of paper, scissors, ribbons, and glitter — the kind that somehow gets everywhere no matter how careful you are.
The room filled with quiet focus. Even the ones who usually complained about crafts were busy drawing candles, stars, and snowy houses. Emma wrote “You are not forgotten” in big, looping letters. Jonas drew a clumsy but cheerful snowman and added a note: “Wishing you warmth, laughter, and company this Christmas.”
After an hour, a colorful pile of cards grew on the teacher’s desk — each one different, imperfect, and full of life. Ms. Larsen gathered them and said softly, “We’ll deliver these to the nursing home this weekend. Some of the residents don’t have many visitors. Your words will matter.”
For a moment, the class went quiet. It wasn’t the kind of silence that comes from boredom, but the kind that comes from realizing something important — that even a small piece of paper, if made with care, can reach someone’s heart.
When the bell rang, the students left behind a trail of glitter across the floor — a fitting reminder that kindness, once spread, is hard to sweep away.