A teacher scolds a boy for coming late to class and demands to meet his parents. But the boy doesn’t show up the next day, and only his grandma comes, saying he is sick. The unconvinced teacher pays a surprise visit later, only to discover that the boy’s life is far more troubled than he thought.
Mr. Morgan’s first day as a new History teacher started with anticipation. He entered the grade 7 classroom, ready to impress with his lecture on the Great Depression and World War II, when the door suddenly creaked open a few minutes after the lesson had started.
“Good morning, young man,” said Mr. Morgan, his voice stern. “It’s 9:15, and you’re 20 minutes late for class. Do you have a good reason?”
“Could you please stand up and introduce yourself?” Mr. Morgan added.
“Nice to meet you, Archie. I’m your new History teacher. You’re late for class. Do you mind telling me why? You just walked in without excusing yourself, and I won’t entertain such behavior.”
Archie hesitated for a while. “I’m sorry, sir. I overslept. I didn’t mean to come in late. I was just tired, sir,” he finished, unable to control his yawn, and the whole class giggled.
“Silence!” Mr. Morgan demanded. “Archie, you cannot be late for class like this. Can I see your homework? I heard your previous history teacher gave you assignments every weekend. Show it to me, will you?”
Archie handed over his notebook, and Mr. Morgan’s expression turned uneasy. “Umm, looks like you didn’t do your homework at all.”
“I didn’t do it, sir,” the boy said sheepishly as the teacher looked through the rest of the pages.
“Archie, what is this? And this? You haven’t done any of your homework this whole term,” Mr. Morgan scolded. “I want to meet your parents tomorrow…first thing, alright? Or I’m taking you straight to the principal’s office. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Archie murmured and slumped on his seat.
But the boy didn’t show up in class the following day, and Mr. Morgan started to worry.
That’s weird. I told Archie to bring his parents today, and he’s absent…I hope I didn’t scare him. I just wanted to help him, Mr. Morgan worried while finishing the rest of his lesson.
“Okay, everyone! See you tomorrow…And don’t forget your assignment. It’s due in two days,” he said, packing his belongings and preparing to leave. Just then, he noticed an older woman, seemingly in her 80s, waiting outside the classroom.
“Excuse me, are you looking for someone?” Mr. Morgan asked her.
“I’m Willow, Archie’s grandmother,” the woman replied, coughing a bit. “Mrs. Parker.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. Archie didn’t come to school today. Is everything alright with him?”
The grandma shook her head. “No, my grandson was a little sick this morning, so I told him not to go to school. He said you wanted to meet his parents. So, what do you want to discuss? My daughter couldn’t come. You can tell me, and I’ll pass the message to her.”
Mr. Morgan shared his concerns about Archie’s lateness, lack of homework completion, and poor grades. He emphasized the need for a meeting with Archie’s mother to address these issues promptly.
Archie’s grandmother agreed to arrange a meeting with his mother. Mr. Morgan, though somewhat relieved, remained concerned about the boy’s academic progress. He watched as Archie’s grandmother left the school, frowning.
Moments later, the school principal, Mr. Smith, approached. “Can you come to my office? There’s something important I want to discuss.”
The principal sat at his desk in his office and linked his fingers on the stable surface. “Mr. Morgan, Archie is a wonderful boy, but his situation is complicated. You’re new, so you may not know that his father passed and his mother… has issues. These things have impacted his grades. He won’t be able to continue, so we’ve decided to expel him next month.”
Stunned, Mr. Morgan protested, “Expel him? But why? He’s troubled, yes, but expulsion isn’t the solution. He needs guidance, not rejection. What if he ends up on the wrong path?”
“We must maintain our standards. We’ve given Archie chances, but there’s no improvement. His presence is affecting our academic statistics,” Mr. Smith shook his head.
Mr. Morgan tried to argue further but to no avail. The principal instructed him to prepare an assessment for Archie’s legal expulsion. But the new History teacher couldn’t sit back and do that.
That evening, he drove to Archie’s address, hoping to alert his mother. He knocked persistently and, receiving no response, cautiously entered. The sight of scattered empty whiskey bottles and the smell of stale alcohol filled the space.
“Mrs. Parker? Archie?” he called out, only to jump back when Archie’s grandmother’s appeared.
“Mr. Morgan, what brings you here?” she asked, equally surprised.
“I wanted to meet Archie’s mother and talk about… I’m just concerned about Archie. Where is he?” he inquired.
“He’s out getting medicines,” she replied hastily, but her eyes darted around the room.
“Alone? Isn’t he sick?” Mr. Morgan questioned, wrinkling his nose.
“He can manage. I’ve got things to do here,” she responded, her hand swinging around.
Reluctantly, Mr. Morgan nodded and excused himself. But just as he was leaving, Archie was returning. The teacher immediately stopped at the look of the messy boy, who sported dirty clothes and emanated a strong smell of tobacco.
The boy stared wide-eyed at him and started sprinting away.
“Archie, wait! Don’t run,” Mr. Morgan called out, catching up to him. “I came to see you. What’s going on? Why do you smell like smoke?”
Archie fidgeted before looking up at his teacher. “Sir, please go home and don’t come here again. I’m okay, just tired and need to wash up.”
“You’re tired? You didn’t come to school, and your grandma said you were sick. I know you’re hiding something. Tell me, I can help,” the teacher urged.
Archie begged him to leave again, but Mr. Morgan wouldn’t back down. “Archie, the principal plans to expel you. I won’t let it happen, but you need to tell me what’s going on. Why didn’t you come to school?” he insisted.
The boy hesitated, but the floodgates soon opened as he expelled what seemed like a lifetime of responsibility on his shoulders.
“After my dad died, my mom borrowed money from bad people. She worked in an illegal cigarette factory and started drinking. I saw her… with a needle. I work part-time at the factory to help with her debt,” the kid confessed, looking down.
“You’re too young for this. It’s bad for your health. Isn’t this a bad decision?”
Archie countered, “Wouldn’t you do the same for your mother?”
Mr. Morgan shook his head, not in denial but in frustration. “You’re meant for something better. Look at your hands; you should be holding books, not tobacco. Come back to school, and we’ll help your mother,” he said.
“What difference does it make? You can submit a bad assessment and get me expelled. I’m the weakest in class; nothing will change,” the boy affirmed, defeated.
As Mr. Morgan tried to persuade him, Archie pulled away and walked off. “I’m okay, Mr. Morgan. I have to cook for my brothers. Granny’s broth is disgusting!”
“What if we switch places? I cook dinner while you do your homework. You can still work, but when you come home, focus on your studies,” Mr. Morgan suggested.
“If you want to burn your fingers in my kitchen, go ahead!” Archie said, shrugging.
Mr. Morgan cooked for Archie’s family to help the boy focus on his studies. It became a routine. He sometimes went to the factory to let Archie catch up with his homework. They talked as they worked and studied, forming a close bond neither ever imagined.
A month later, Archie’s grades improved, and the principal reconsidered the expulsion. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I couldn’t have done this without you,” Archie said, choking up on his words.
“No, Archie, it’s your hard work,” Mr. Morgan replied, overjoyed.
As they sat for a meal, a knock on the door interrupted their celebration. Archie answered, and his heart raced at the social workers from Child Protective Services who stood outside.
“May we come in and meet your guardian?” they asked. They entered before the boy could react, and it didn’t take long before they decided to take action.
“I’m sorry, but we have to take you and your brothers to a temporary group home until we find a better placement,” one of the workers explained.
“No! This is our home. We’re not leaving,” Archie protested as they wrapped their arms around him. He struggled against the workers, crying out. “Let me go… Please, don’t take us away. Granny… Mr. Morgan, help us.”
Mr. Morgan watched them go, reassuring Archie that everything would be alright in the end.
Despite his desperate pleas, Archie and his brothers were taken to a shelter. The boy tried to contact his mother and Mr. Morgan for a while but without success.
For some reason, Archie was convinced that this was all the principal’s fault. He had been the only villain in the young boy’s life, looking to expel him at some point. So, he began to harbor a deep resentment against the old, bald man, but it disappeared once he and his brothers were adopted.
Fifteen years later, Archie returned to his old school. Walking down the familiar hallways, he felt nostalgic and excited. A familiar voice came over the school’s intercom, giving him pause.
Archie turned and headed to the principal’s office, only to discover his former history teacher, Mr. Morgan, had replaced Mr. English.
“Are you the new English teacher?” Mr. Morgan asked, grinning pleasantly.
“Mr. Morgan! It’s me, Archie. Do you remember me? The boy who stank of tobacco and never did his homework?” Archie revealed himself.
They sat and talked about life and what happened after seeing each other last. Then Mr. Morgan cleared his throat, and his next words became sad and heavy.
“I called CPS that day. I just wanted you kids to have a better life. I’m sorry for not telling you…I hope you can forgive me,” he said, expelling a gust of air afterward.
“I knew something was off. I first thought it was Mr. Smith, but then I realized he was just concerned about my grades,” Archie chuckled but got serious. “I owe you everything, Mr. Morgan. You believed in me when no one else did.”
Archie paused for a second, swallowing.
“Sometimes, the best decision is the most painful one,” the young man finished, biting his bottom lip.
Mr. Morgan nodded while covering his eyes to disguise the moisture. Thank God.
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