With gentle words and steady hands
her work is filled with love
She meets the tasks her role commands
then soars so far above
With rows of little desks with seats
and number charts displayed
Each morning, with a smile, she greets
her class of second grade
Her walls adorned with works of art
to boost her student's pride
She navigates each youthful heart
with kindness in her stride
She shapes young minds like gentle streams
with lesson plans laid well
Encouraging their goals and dreams
so they feel proud to tell
She walks the line of soft and firm
and always lends her ear
The bonds instilled, outlast each term
her promises, sincere
She plants the seeds from in her room
and sparks the thoughts that soar
And when we see our children bloom
It's her, we're thankful for
This praise stems from a heart that knows
with witnessed truths compiled
Among those tiny desks in rows
of students, sits my child
My little girl began the year
consumed by her self doubt
With pain behind each hidden tear
that surfaced and poured out
This teacher came to quickly see
and even quicker, act
She made it her priority
to fully grasp each fact
She stood a source of hope and light
determined to revive
Reminding her she's rare, and bright
I watched my daughter thrive
She built her up and gained her trust
that shell began to crack
Then from each crack, it turned to dust
and confidence came back
Real heroes walk the halls, it's true
for they do more than teach
The depth of thanks that's truly due
no words could ever reach
