One morning, one of my little girls walked into class looking heartbroken. As we started our day, she suddenly announced — right there in front of everyone — that her parents were going to court for custody that day. Her little voice trembled as she said, “I’m scared they’re going to make me choose.”

The room fell silent. I could see her classmates processing what she said, their young faces filled with concern. I did my best to comfort her and gently moved the class forward with our morning routine.

A little later, I noticed her by the cubbies, hugging one of her classmates tightly. Both of them were crying softly. Worried, I rushed over, afraid something had happened.

But then, I saw it — a small, crumpled note in her hand. It was from the little boy she was hugging. In uneven, shaky handwriting, it said:

“Don’t worry. Whatever happens, it’s in God’s hands.”

I had to turn away for a moment because the tears were already in my eyes.

These two children, barely 7 or 8 years old, showed a depth of compassion and love that many adults spend a lifetime trying to learn.

I drove home that day with a full heart and tears in my eyes, so proud of the little family we’ve built in our classroom.

Sometimes, the smallest hearts carry the greatest wisdom.