He was the heart of our daycare

I used to work with a wonderful man—everyone called him Mr. Eddie. He had been in childcare for over 60 years, taking care of little ones like they were his own grandkids. He was the heart of our daycare, and everyone loved him. Two years ago, he got sick, and we lost him. It felt like a piece of the place was missing without him.

At his funeral, about 30 of us—old and new coworkers, teachers, and families who had known him—sat together in one section of the church. We even joked that it was the “daycare section.” Halfway through the service, the speaker was talking about how much Mr. Eddie loved caring for children. Right at that moment, a big wreath hanging on the church wall beside us suddenly fell to the ground. We all just looked at each other and laughed softly, because of course he’d do something like that. That was just his way.

About six months later, a coworker and I were in his old classroom, talking while we worked. I was changing a diaper in the changing area, and she was a few feet away in the main room. The changing area connected two classrooms, with a gate on each side. Suddenly, the gate to the other classroom—where no one was—swung open and smacked against the wall. We both froze. I thought maybe someone had walked through, even though we hadn’t seen anyone. I quickly finished up and checked. The room was completely empty. My coworker just shook her head and said, “Nope!” Then she grabbed her babies and moved to the back of the room.

A year later, another strange thing happened. A coworker and I were chatting before her break. She had her phone sitting on the half-wall in the classroom, about five feet away from where we stood. Out of nowhere, the phone flew off the wall and hit the floor. We both stared at it. After a long pause, she just shrugged and said, “Well, alright then.”

The daycare building is about 40 years old. Mr. Eddie had worked there since the very beginning. A long time ago, before I even started, a baby sadly passed away in the center. It wasn’t the only time something tragic had happened there.

To this day, little things happen—doors creak open when no one’s near, toys move, and sometimes, you feel like you’re not alone even when you are. Maybe it’s just the building getting old… or maybe it’s Mr. Eddie, still watching over the kids like he always did.