Missing the Usual

I miss their hugs.
I miss listening to their stories, and reading to them after school.
I miss them showing me their latest artwork or inventions.
I miss them helping me up a few stairs with my crutches, or carrying things for me.
I miss hearing them sing so loudly it filled the whole campus in the morning.
I miss telling them stories, and answering a thousand questions.
I miss making deals with them to pick up bag-fulls of trash after school for a few pieces of candy.
I miss talking to them when they were in trouble.
I miss sharing food with them at lunch time.
I miss cleaning their wounds and bandaging them up when they fell.
I miss them begging to ring the bell before and after school.
I miss hearing their prayers, especially the ones for my healing.
I miss their notes and drawings, poems, and verses.
I miss their smiles.