One More Day
By Bonnie Jo Kelley
The note from the guidance department was urgent: "We need you ASAP." Needless to say, I almost beat the seniors out the door when the release bell rang.
From the look on her face, Kyra meant business. "I'm leaving," she said. "Just sign on this line and I'm out of here!" A second-semester senior, Kyra's eyes were filled with tears. Without knowing all the details, I had seen her class work slipping. Problems at home, problems at school, problems wherever she turned were just too much. Yet, the thought of this intelligent, sensitive human being dropping out of school was inconceivable.
Since there was no other chair to sit on, I knelt on the floor beside her, handing her a tissue. "Please don't leave," I begged. "You are the best advertising manager I have ever had on the newspaper staff. The billing is due this week, and no one else knows your job. Kyra, you've done it so well for so long, I'm not sure I even know how to do it anymore!"
Holding her tear-stained face in my hands, I pleaded, "Stay just one more day. Do the billing one more time, and I promise, I'll sign the release. You'll be out of this school forever!"
Begrudgingly, she consented, "O.K., but just one more day. You'd better train somebody else to do those stinking ads, though because I won't be back!"
One day turned into two, then three, then four. Eventually graduation day came. Standing in the receiving line, diploma in hand, Kyra's tears were now tears of joy. "You tricked me," she whispered, offering me a hug. "Thanks for needing me!"