He gestured toward Caleb.
“This young man never became popular because he was kind.”
Then he gestured around the gym.
“He became popular because people noticed kindness.”
Silence.
Then the officer looked directly at the students.
“The problem is that many of you noticed it too late.”
Nobody laughed now.
Nobody made jokes.
Nobody pointed at my birthmark.
Nobody mocked my thrift-store dress.
Because suddenly those things looked incredibly small.
The officer handed Caleb the plaque.
The applause started again.
Louder this time.
Longer.
