On Friday, a teacher gave her 5th graders a simple but powerful prompt: “I wish my teacher would know…”

The responses she received weren’t just words on paper. They were windows into the quiet battles children face every day—battles most of us never see.

One child wrote:
“I wish my teacher would know; my dad is in jail, and I haven’t seen him in years.”

Another admitted:
“I wish my teacher would know, I don’t always eat dinner because my mom works and I don’t know how to work the stove.”

Others confessed struggles that broke the heart wide open:
“My sister sleeps in the same bed as me, and sometimes she wets the bed, and that’s why I smell funny.”
“I don’t always have sneakers for gym class because my brothers and I share one pair.”
“I like coming to school because it’s quiet here, unlike my house with all the yelling.”

These are not just “cute classroom notes.” They are cries for understanding. For compassion. For someone—anyone—to notice what’s hidden behind the smiles, the missing homework, or the tired eyes.

Too often, we spend our lives talking, assuming, and judging what we think we know about people. But how often do we listen? How often do we look closer, ask more questions, and truly try to see life through someone else’s eyes?

Every person you meet is carrying a story you don’t know. Some of those stories are heavier than we could ever imagine.

That’s why empathy matters. That’s why kindness matters. That’s why it is not just a choice but a responsibility to give more than we get, to serve rather than just consume, and to use our lives to make others’ lives lighter.

Because at the end of the day, the measure of our lives isn’t in what we achieve or accumulate. It’s in how we loved. How we lifted. How we listened.

Let’s leave this world a little better than we found it—one act of compassion, one moment of listening, one life touched at a time.