Spring break had just wrapped up, so I asked my high school English class to share their stories. “I’ll start,” I said. “I just got back from a road trip with my calico cat, Patches.”
When the kids started to ask questions about the cat, I explained how she had started life in Michigan before coming to live with me in St. Louis a few years back. One student, James, seemed to hang on my every word.
I had been concerned about James since his first day in class. He didn’t participate, rejected special help and his grades were low. This was the first time he’d shown an interest in anything.
At the end of class, James approached my desk. “How old is Patches?” he asked. “Who gave her to you? Why did the family in Michigan give her away?”
I explained that Patches’s original family had to give her away when they moved. I didn’t know them, but I knew the family they gave her to. They couldn’t keep her and gave her to me.
“What was the family’s name?”
I told him.
“Patches was my cat,” James said. “We left her with that family when we moved away from Michigan.”
It seemed impossible, but I invited James over to see his dear friend. Patches climbed right into his lap. James cuddled with Patches and became a new young man right before my eyes. His attitude improved and his grades shot up.
He was welcome to visit “our” cat anytime! I’d gotten through to my most difficult student—all thanks to a traveling angel disguised as a cat.
