Just A Moment

The moment might have gone unnoticed. It was after school. We were standing outside with the lingerers. Those who lingered. After dismissal, there were still a few students who had yet to be picked up by their parents. Or aunts. Or uncles. It's been a long strange year. But we still don't let kids go wandering off from school without adult supervision. So we were waiting on the curb, chatting with one another and keeping an eye on the children who remained. 

A gentleman came from around the corner. "Angelo!" he called out. The third grader standing in the shade of the sidewalk tree and his towering teacher looked up.

"Daddy!"

Angelo's daddy walked straight to his son and looped a hand around his neck. A tough and loving gesture. Then he did something interesting. He had never met his son's teacher before. With all the separations and distance created over the past year and a half, Angelo's mother had been the point of contact. Dad was just a name on a form.

Until now. The last week of school. That's when the moment occurred. Angelo's daddy kept that one hand draped over his son's neck and the other, his right hand, was extended in the direction of Angelo's teacher. For that moment, there was a pause while this gesture was recalled from the dim past. A handshake. The open hand extended in friendship. 

Time stretched as Angelo's teacher found his wits and extended his hand in kind. "It's been a long time," he said. "I haven't shaken hands with anyone for a long time." 

"Oh, sorry," and for rest of the moment, these two men tried to unravel the meaning of what they were doing.

"No, it's fine," Angelo's teacher gave another shake. This one was more assured. Firm. Then it was over. Angelo turned and walked away with his daddy, pausing to look back and wave. 

And that was a moment too.