"Class…"

Every person in the room stood and faced the door, as if they were about to run the Boston Marathon. They waited in anticipation for the word that meant

freedom.

" a minute! Everyone back to your seats!"

The class groaned in unison but luckily I was still putting away my notebook, so I had yet to prepare myself to dash out the door. The chances were very good

that I'd be asked to stay after school anyway. Unfortunately that was becoming the norm.

"Like, what gives?" Leave it to Maynard to question the teacher.

"What gives, Mr. Krebs is this. I almost forgot the assignment."

Again the collective groan followed by chatter, causing Mr. Pomfritt to hold up his hand. "Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Now if you don't mind staying just a little

longer I'd like to talk about something very important. Just hold your chatter for a few more minutes, please. It seems that I got so caught up in talking about

the subject at hand that I neglected to discuss what I really wanted to discuss. And that is Acts of Kindness. I'll go into more detail tomorrow but for your

homework assignment, I want you to write an essay those details a time that you did something selfless.

"You want us to write about being selfish?"

"Er, no Maynard. I said selfless. That means I want you to write about a time that you did something to help someone else expecting nothing in return."

"Okay, I dig."

"Good, I'm glad you… dig. Now get to work everyone! Class…dismissed!"

I'd never seen a classroom empty so fast in my life. As I gathered my books, I thought about what Mr. Pomfritt had said. And then I smiled. I knew the perfect

thing to write about and I could hardly wait to go home and get started on it.

Now, you would think that for me to be so excited about doing a homework assignment there must be something wrong with me; and maybe there was. But at

the risk of sounding smug, I knew that Mr. Pomfritt would be impressed that I convinced Maynard to turn in the locket. And the fact that the owner had written

an anonymous letter of gratitude meant something.

Without even saying goodbye to Maynard, I joined the rush of my classmates and headed for home.

"Well, it's about time you got home because I have a whole lot of sweeping and cleaning for you to do!" My father shouted when I walked into the store."

"No time today, Dad. I have work to do."

"You certainly do, boy! So put on this apron and take this broom and get to work!"

"Not that kind of work, Dad. I meant school work."

"Oh no you don't! You can't get out of work that easily!"

"Work?!"

I jumped in surprise at the unexpected yelp of my good friend who stood behind me." Maynard, don't do that!"

"Like what gives? Like you just ran out of the room like it was on fire!"

"I have to get started on this assignment for Mr. Pomfritt, Maynard. And you'd better do the same!"

"Now I've heard everything!" My dad said, putting his hands on his hips. "There's no way you're that excited to do a silly assignment. You're just trying to get

out of doing some work around here!"

"Work!?" Maynard yelped.

"Honest, Dad, I really do have to do this assignment! It's very important!"

"Herbert, let the boy do his school work! You should be proud of him, instead of hounding him to work in the store all the time!"

"Work?!"

"Maynard, cut that out! And go home, all right? I'll see you at school tomorrow!"

Maynard's smile faded. "Like okay, good buddy. Like goodbye, Mr. G. Mrs. G."

"Goodbye, Maynard."

"Bye Maynard."

"What was that all about?" Dad demanded.

"Dad, I told you, I have to get started on this assignment!"

"Well, don't let me stop you! Get going, boy!"

My mother protested while my dad ushered me up the stairs, complaining that he was the one who was going to have to do all of the work in the store.

When I got to my room I closed the door and sat down on my bed. Carefully I removed my notebook and the letter from the stranger and sat them on my desk.

And then I got to work. It took some time to decide how to start, but once I figured it out I couldn't stop. I wrote until my hand ached, and continued into the

night. By the time I finished, I glanced at the paper in my hand and smiled. It was without a doubt, the finest essay I'd ever written. I couldn't wait to show it to

Mr. Pomfritt. Even if he didn't give me an A, I was proud of it, and maybe that was more important.