The Legacy of a Laugh
Years later, former students would come back to visit Mrs. Higgins. They were in high school or college now, tall and grown up.
Almost every single one of them would ask, “Do you still have those awful drawings we made of you?” And she would smile, open a drawer, and pull out their specific contribution—the robot, the blob, the wrinkle map. They would laugh together, remembering that Tuesday afternoon when art class went horribly, wonderfully wrong.