Mr. Hendersen is exiting a dorm room. It is Sadie, Laurie, Kelly, and Missy’s dorm room . . . or it will be for an hour or so longer. He closes the door behind him, and the “click” is barely audible. He is downcast. This is the worst day of the whole school year. Hanging from his right shoulder . . . and going across his chest and on down to his left side . . . is a paperboy satchel.
It is the type of shoulder bag a paper boy uses to carry his newspapers, but inside this shoulder bag are diplomas . . . and Mr. Hendersen is passing them out.
The next dorm room he must stop in is Penny, Beth, Jody, and Rachel’s room. He knocks and Penny opens the door to let him in. He hands her her diploma. “Thanks Jimmy.” The room is filled with, not only four students, but four sets of parents as well. Mr. Hendersen nods a greeting to Penny’s parents and then moves on to Beth, where pretty much the same procedure is followed, and then on to Jody . . . and then Rachel.
He greets Rachel’s parents by name and hands a diploma to Rachel.
“Thanks Jimmy.” she tells him, but clearly something is troubling her. Mr. Hendersen turns and takes a step toward the door when . . .
Rachel: Oh Jimmy . . .
Mr. Hendersen stops, turns toward Rachel, and takes her two hands into his two hands.
Mr. Hendersen: Rachel. You have to move on. It is absolutely necessary. You have goodness in you, and it’s important that you share it with other people. And you will do that . . . where-ever you go . . . and then they, in their turn, can do the same thing. In a way, you are planting seeds, and it is something you absolutely should do.
After this brief but meaningful conversation, Mr. Hendersen exits the room . . . closing the door behind him . . . and the “click” is not audible at all.
Rachel’s dad: You’ll never meet anyone like that again.
Rachel: I know.
Rachel’s dad: Can I see your diploma?
Rachel hands the diploma to her father. Beth comes over and sits next to Rachel on her bed. Beth, Rachel’s roommate for four years, doesn’t say anything . . . she just looks at Rachel’s face.
Rachel’s dad: This is a pretty nice diploma . . . and your transcripts too.
Rachel: He always does that.
At this point, Rachel’s mother, who had been packing, turns toward her daughter and says, “Rachel honey . . . I have an idea.” And the girl Rachel brightens a little, and she turns and looks up at her mom.