A tribute to my son’s second-grade teacher

School is out — and no one deserves the break more than teachers.

My mind and heart are focused this week on one special teacher, Barbara Holland, who taught my son three years ago. She died last weekend and our school is heartbroken.

Ms. Holland seemed most at home when she was in the classroom with her second-graders. She started the school day with the room lights dimmed and spoke softly into a microphone — a soothing balm to my son, who that year often began his day with a fussy toddler next to him in the car. Quinn was a fidgety, on-the-go little boy, so she brought out an exercise ball for him to sit on instead of a stationary chair.

A few hours before I learned of her death, I came across a Hardy Boys book she had bought at a garage sale for Quinn. (She loved garage sales and she even inspired Quinn to insist we have a garage sale!) As I looked at this sweet gift, I recalled how thoughtful that was and was filled again with gratitude for a teacher who took the time to know her students and show them she cared.

She will be missed.

This story was originally published May 24, 2016 at 4:48 PM with the headline "A tribute to my son’s second-grade teacher."