I was a shy, struggling reader in Mrs. Sullivan's class in 1986. She sat with me every morning before the bell and never once made me feel slow. I became a teacher because of her — and I keep a coffee can of pencils on my own desk now.

Stories
Margaret Sullivan
Personal memories of Margaret — a time you spent together, something that made you laugh, anything you'd like others to know.
Sunday mornings
Mom did the Sunday crossword in pen, always. If she got one wrong she'd write over it darker, like she was daring the puzzle to argue back. The kitchen radio, the screen door that never latched, the smell of coffee — that's Sunday to me, and it always will be.
