The Case of the Missing Purse

I have been volunteering in Claire's first grade class every Tuesday. Last Tuesday was no exception. I entered the class and set my purse down in the same place I always put it: on the counter in the corner by the sink.

Another mom and I worked hard while Mrs. Henderson pulled small groups of kids out to read with her. I was in charge of getting the kids to cut their fire trucks out right, (a surprisingly difficult task) helping the kids figure out which pictures went with the short a and short e sounds, and mopping up a ton of glue off of one boy's desk.

The other mom was helping kids correct their saftey information sheets. The class was unusually noisy and bustling, with the exception of Jaden who was totally zonked out on his desk. I mean he was out and no amount of noise was waking him up. Secretly I wished I could be zonked out like that. Although I am sure I wouldn't look as cute. My hair would be every where and most likely there would be a large puddle of drool on the desk, ubdoubtedly which I'd get all over me.

As the kids lined up for recess I walked back to the sink to get my purse and head on out to get Jeremiah from preschool. I stopped short of the sink and was surprised. A child looked at me and said, "What are you missing?" which I found very odd since I hadn't said anything to anyone at all, but answered, "My purse."

Sure enough my purse was gone from the sink. One thing went through my mind, "Oh, Mrs. Henderson is going to love this." Because just a couple of weeks ago a mom couldn't find her cell phone. It turned up in the girl's bathroom. The mom had used up a lot of class time trying to find it. Mrs. Henderson and I assumed she had misplaced it. Later, after the mom had left, the child who asked me what I was missing found the cell phone.

So I approached Mrs. Henderson fearing she would think she had a bunch of irresponsible moms working for her, only I knew, without any doubt at all, I had put my purse on the counter. I would have bet my life on it. When I told Mrs. Henderson she said, "No!" I told her to take the kids out to recess and I would search for it. She said, "Oh no, this does not happen twice. This is being done by a kid." She suggested I look in the girls' bathroom. I went but didn't find it. I was getting slightly panicked as my keys were in there and I didn't want to leave my son and Megan stranded at preschool.

Back in the class room the other mom had started searching for my purse. Then I heard her say, "Mrs. Henderson, my things are gone too." As sad as I was because I knew what it meant, I was also glad in a weird way because to me it was proof that it wasn't an airheaded Rebecca who forgot where she put something.

Mrs. Henderson then went into official mode. You could tell she was upset and I'm not sure I ever thought I would sense her upset. She locked the room down. Well, that sounds very prison like. Nothing was actually locked. But she did close the door and order the students to go get their backpacks and dump everything out. She said, "Someone in here thinks it's a game to take people's things, but this is not a game. This is a serious matter."

She went to get the principal and the kids fetched their bags and soon the floor was cluttered with stuff. (You should see how much 'junk' was in these bags!) Soon a counselor came in. She pulled me aside and asked if I had any ideas of the culprit.

I hesitated. Yes I had a thought. But here I was feeling like I was making someone sound guilty--doesn't that go against are justice system? I had no actual proof. Just weird pieces of information. The counselor sensed my hesitation and encouraged me to talk. I prefaced it with a strong, "I have no absolute proof and so I want what I say to be taken as just a statement, not a pointing finger."

I let her know that a certain child had been in and out of the class a lot. I know because another student brought it to my attention. Then later I saw the child in the hall again and thought, "that is odd." Then I told her it was the same child who asked me, before I had said anything to anyone, "what was I missing?". This was the same child who found the missing phone a couple of weeks ago.

I knew the question the child asked me would arouse a lot of suspicion. So I emphasized again I had no proof and for all I knew I had mumbled something I don't remember saying and the child heard it. And I really wanted to be wrong.

I did tell her who it wasn't. Jaden was sleeping the whole time so it was no way him. Ethan was out of the class the whole time so it wasn't him. Claire and Abby were with Mrs. Henderson, and Mrs. Rae so I knew it wasn't them. Everyone else was a suspect, though there were plenty more I was pretty sure of their innocence because I had spent so much time helping them.

Mrs. Henderson returned, toting my purse. I was so relieved to have my keys. Any type of card I can cancel. Keys a harder issue. Mrs. Henderson found it in the girls' bathroom. Admittedly I hadn't looked in all the stalls because one was occupied and I didn't think to ask the occupant about it. We all like our privacy.

Still, the glasses/garage door opener was missing for the other mom. We found them at the bottom of a very nasty trash can. (There was dumped milk in there-blech!) The principal came in. Claire and Abby came back from Mrs. Rae and Claire was totally bewildered by the scene. When she asked me about it and I told her what was going on here eyes got as big as quarters. "Someone took your purse?" You could almost feel the betrayal.

I had to leave, but anxiously met Claire off the bus. She was very bummed out. Her shoulders hung, she didn't want to talk. I briefed her only to find out the counselor talked to each of them and that Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. DeBosch feel they know who it is. And that 17 of them would get double recess and a special treat, but one would not. Claire was radiating sadness. I could tell it really bothered her that someone who she sees as a friend (b/c everyone in her class she sees as a friend) would do something like this. I felt for her and quit the briefing. I let her direct it instead. All she really wanted to know was who.

She still wants to know. She wants me to tell her who I think it is. So I explained to her that wasn't something I should do. "Why?" she asked. "Well, if I told you who I thought it was, what would you do?" "Don't worry mom, I'd keep it our family secret." "No, I mean, how would you feel about that person after I told you who I thought it was?" "I'm not sure." I told her how it doesn't matter anymore because we all got our things back and because this person knows they did it and now it's our job to be forgiving and understanding. We should remember that anyone can make a bad choice but can also choose to never do that bad choice again.

So we go on without knowing. And while curiosity often still gets both of us, in many ways I really don't want to know. I want to continue looking at these kids with rose colored glasses. They are just 6 and 7. So young. I have gotten to know most of them and love when they come and want to do their work by me, or get excited when they see me in the halls, etc and wave. I love when they do their sign for thank you when I help them. I love when they smile. And so this is how I want to see them. And if I ever do hear who it was, I hope I can always view them in their potential, not for a past choice.