Kids say the darndest (and coolest) things

School starts late in Minnesota - by law the kids can't go back until after Labor Day. I have heard this is because the resort owners have a powerful lobby and want Minnesota families to go on one last revenue-producing summer vacation. I don't know if that's true or not. Seems a little far-fetched.

Anyway, my job with the Minnesota Reading Corps has already started, so, until the kids return to school, I am basically doing odd jobs to get my required hours. Today I was out in front of my school, Madison Elementary, repainting the (District) "742 - for you!" sign on the sidewalk. It wasn't a bad odd job to be assigned to. The weather was beautiful, and there's a certain satisfaction I get from jobs like painting, where you can see tangible progress.

As I was sitting on the concrete, painting, a young boy rode up on his bicycle. For confidentiality reasons, I can't give his name, but he said he was a fourth-grader at Madison. I introduced myself and we got to talking for awhile about the painting I was doing and the reading instruction I'll be doing once school starts. It wasn't long before he asked that question I'm always half-expecting when I meet someone new: "What happened to your hands?"

This question, as it pertains to the new job, has me a little anxious. I will soon be meeting hundreds of elementary school kids, about 20 of whom I will work with on a daily basis. I know I look a little different and sometimes I wonder how they will react to me. Will they be scared? Will they not want to be around me? It's a little irrational, I know, but I worry about these things sometimes.

So, having thought about what I would say ahead of time, I told this kid on the bike that a long time ago I got sick and the doctor had to take some of my fingers and toes off so that I would get better. But I was fine now and, even though I looked a little bit different, I could do pretty much everything I used to do.

The boy, of course, had some questions. "What sickness did you get?" (Meningitis, but you don't have to worry about getting it because there's a shot that you can get when you turn 11 that will protect you). "Did it hurt when the doctor took off your fingers and toes?" (Yes, it hurt, but they gave me medicine to take most of the pain away). "Could you still drive a car?" (Yes, I actually drive better now because I can't talk on the phone and drink a 40-ounce pop at the same time. I have to focus more on the road).

I told him again that I could do pretty much everything I used to, it just took me some time to figure out how to do it again. I had to try and try and keep practicing until I got it right. And he said, "Kinda like when I was learning to ride my bike," which I thought was a pretty smart analogy for a fourth-grader.

After that there was a lull in the conversation. I kept painting and he just watched for awhile. Then, out of the blue, the boy broke the silence by saying, "You know, it's kinda cool to see somebody without any fingers working so hard."

Talk about your all-time nicest things to say. As far as I could tell, what he was saying was, "I am inspired by the fact that you don't let your disability keep you from being productive." That is probably one of the best compliments I have ever received, and I'm sure this boy didn't have any idea his words could make that kind of impact. I walked around with a big, goofy grin on my face the rest of the day. I think I'm going to like working with kids.