Recently, I had the opportunity to pick Samantha up from school. Since it rarely happens, I knew it would be a treat for both, me, and Sam.

As I walked down the hall to her room, I thought of all the times Tina had stood in this hallway, watching Samantha make her way to her room. It had to be hard for her...but, this was Sam's day for a surprise visit from Daddy.

As I walked toward Samantha's classroom, I could see that the door was open. Inside, the children were all sitting on the floor...talking and playing together. I spotted Samantha. She was sitting beside another boy. She was laughing and talking to him. She looked as though she was having a delightful time.

Instead of knocking, or entering Sam's room, I opted to simply stand in the doorway and observe. Sam's teacher was sitting at her computer, with her back to the class. A little girl, sitting a few feet away from Samantha, picked up a sweater that was lying on the floor beside her, and tossed it over a desk. It landed inches from where Sam was sitting with her friend. Samantha picked up the sweater and tossed it back over the desk. It landed beside the little girl. The girl who had intially tossed the sweater, stood to her feet and hollered, "STOP IT SAMANTHA!"

I felt the anger begin to rise up from deep within me. All the other children had stopped their play, and were now staring at Sam. Sam's teacher took her eyes off the monitor long enough to look sternly at Samantha. I looked at Sam. She simply hung her head in shy appology. I found myself aching for my poor little angel. What a horrible thing to have happened to her. I wanted to scream at everyone in the room...starting with the little girl who had hollered out at Sam...and ending with a tirade - directed at her "self absorbed" teacher.

I had just about decided to explode into the room, when I saw Samantha turn toward the little boy who was sitting beside her. She scrunched her face up into a mock scowl, and silently mouthed the words, "STOP IT SAMANTHA!" She then broke into a hearty chuckle.

As I stood there, I found myself fighting both tears and laughter. Samantha had taken a dreadful situation, and had turned it into a mildly comical moment. I thought of all the obstacles my daughter faces, on a daily basis, that no one, including myself, is aware of.

As I entered the room, I caught Samantha's eye, and walked over to where she was sitting. She extended her hand, I took it, and helped her to her feet. As we walked down the hall, hand in hand, I noticed her starting to swing our hands...each swing, higher than the one before. As I glanced down at her, I saw her grinning...we were together...going home...what could be better than that?