John's Farewell

The morning light filtered through the daycare windows, casting a soft glow on John’s face. Today was his last day at Shepherds Daycare - a moment both exciting and melancholy. A crisp new suit hung on the coat rack, a symbol of his upcoming corporate adventure.

Mitchell sensed something was different. The two-year-old watched John with wide, perceptive eyes, his usual playful energy subdued.

“Come here, buddy,” John said softly, scooping Mitchell up.

He held Mitchell close, remembering countless mornings of diaper changes, playtime, and quiet moments. The little boy who had been a constant in his life for the past year looked up at him, sensing the weight of the moment.

“I’m going to miss you,” John whispered, his voice catching slightly.

Mitchell reached up, touching John’s cheek - a gesture so innocent and pure it threatened to break John’s composure. The other caretakers watched quietly, understanding the depth of connection that develops in a place like Shepherds Daycare.

John set Mitchell down, kneeling to his level. “Be a good boy,” he said, straightening Mitchell’s shirt and giving him a final hug.

As he stood, picking up his suit jacket, Mitchell watched silently. No tears, no tantrum - just a quiet understanding that something was changing.

The door opened. John took one last look around the room that had been his second home, his eyes lingering on Mitchell.

Then he was gone.

Mitchell turned back to his toys, too young to fully comprehend the goodbye, but somehow sensing the end of a chapter.