Christmas Daisy Read Online Free PDF Page A

from a great book called “Old Yeller” that we just read with the little kids.  It’s got a farmhouse, and horses, and even Old Yeller himself.  Wanna help?”
    When his shock had dissolved, he praised them, even through his shock, and picked up a brush and added some foliage to a tree that had been sketched on his originally sparkling wall. 
    “So you liked the b ook,” he asked between strokes  
    “We loved it,” called voices from both age groups.  “That dog was awes ome,” said  Jimmy, eyes bright and excited.  “Do you think we could get a dog like that for the school? But it oughta be one without hydrophobia.”
    “Yeah!” a chorus of voices echoed as they painted.
    “Um, we’ll see,” he stammered. He had never seen Jimmy smile before.  “We’ll see.”  He finished his tree, turned over his brush, as one of the girl’s watch alarms beeped.
    “OK, clean up,” said Maria with authority. “Back to class in five minutes, or we’re not trustworthy.”
    They grumbled, but they agreed.
    Ben watched the clean up process with pride, and then went back to his office.  It was like they had grown up in the space of two weeks.  It was as if his school had finally jelled to a supportive family environment, where cooperation and a feeling of responsibility had exploded.
    And it was because of Daisy Donovan.  She was unorthodox, she was stubborn, and she was the best teacher he had ever seen.  Her methods often set him off balance; her plans disrupted his schedules and his sense of order.  And they absolutely worked.
    But it wasn’t just that.  There was an “aliveness” about the tiny blond woman who he had hired by mistake.  There was a glow, a charm, an appeal that had captured his heart in a much more personal way than he would ever want to admit.  Especially to her.
    Because as much as he fo und Daisy Donovan attractive, as much as she was friendly and open in her position as teacher and in her immediate concern for all of her students, she had made it quite clear her personal life was off bounds.   He knew nothing about her, except for the sketchy details that had been given to him when he had hired her.  While they had spent hours together, planning, brainstorming, and discussing the students and their programs, she was as much an enigma as ever.  But he cherished the time.
    Back at his desk, he waded through a stack of papers awaiting his attention.  As the morning passed, he glanced at the clock on the wall, and felt a surge of anticipation.  He passed his hands through his curly hair, one eye on the door awaiting her arrival for their midday staff meeting.
    Get a grip on yourself, his mind reprimanded.  Stop being like one of the teenagers with an elusive crush.
      He sighed.  If only he could.  No one ha d ever affected him the way Daisy had. Was it love?  He had never been in love before. 
    The three teachers arrived for the meeting, Daisy last. Each had brought their lunch to eat during their meeting.  He pulled his out of the drawer, a boring ham and cheese sandwich.  Miss Gracie had brought tuna.  Mr. Andy had an Italian hoagie.  Daisy opened a thermos, filled with some strange concoction of soup, a combination of vegetables, beans, spices and a zillion herbs.  The aroma of the soup quickly filled the small office. 
    “Anybody want some?” she offered, holding the large thermos out to the group, as she did ever day.  Once they had succumbed and tried it.  No one had taken up her offer again.  The taste of the overly spicy stuff still lingered in his memory. 
    “No thanks,” they said in unison, s ettling for their usual, if boring, lunches.
    “The mural painting went so well this morning,” said Miss Gracie. My students get their seat work done in half the time, knowing they have to be on target to get to spend time with their “Big Buddies”.”
    “The mural isn’t half bad,” offered Mr. Andy with a mouthful of hoagie.  “Better than