I take a gulp of coffee and resign myself to looking for a new Chumash teacher

Ilove my job, but maybe it would have been easier to just have opened a muffin business.

This is what I think as I review Goldy Tennenbaum’s letter of resignation. Cleveland. Why Cleveland? That’s a move even I wouldn’t consider. But Goldy is our best and brightest, the real central morah for tenth grade. Tenth grade is tricky for the girls. No one’s treating you with the kid gloves reserved for ninth graders, or the respect 11th graders and 12th graders have earned. But Goldy knows how to get through to the girls, how to give them room to grow, and guide them without stepping on their toes.

I stand up, make myself a strong coffee, and ask the assistant principal, Miriam Roberg, to come in. Wordlessly, I hand her Goldy’s letter.

“...best years of my life… miss you so much…. Bittersweet goodbyes….”

She puts the paper down and looks at me. “This is not good. This is not good at all.”

The bell rings and the sounds of girls shrieking as they run to their next class fills the hallways. That sound always makes me happy. I love assisting girls as they take those first steps from childhood to young adulthood. Their very existence is a testament to potential and the bright futures ahead of them. But for all that, I need a solid staff at my side. And Goldy Tennenbaum’s husband’s shteller in Cleveland is going to leave us with a gaping hole.

“Chava Hirschman!” Miriam says suddenly.

I squint, thinking about this. Chava is an amazing person. Truly a kind woman and a good friend as well. She—

An image of socks pops into my mind.