The naptime ritual that broke me

Today I let the kids lie down without the usual lullaby. Just silence, a slow breath in and out, like the world was holding its own. One little girl started humming—off-key, broken notes—and then another joined, and then three more. I stood by the window, watching the sun slide across the floorboards, and for ten seconds I forgot I was a teacher. I just stood there, shoulders loose, listening to their imperfect harmony. It wasn’t beautiful. It was better. I didn’t fix it. I didn’t even smile. I just stayed. And then one of them said, ‘Lucia, are you sad?’ And I said, ‘No, I’m not.’ But I was.