A school holds a silence day and discovers how loudly kindness speaks.
At Sunrise Public, everyone talked like they were paid per word. The principal declared a Silence Day: hand signs only, smiles optional, meanness illegal.
Morning was awkward ballet—pencils clicking, shoes whispering. Then something loosened: a boy used fingers to ask for an eraser; a girl slid hers across like a secret handshake. The class clown mimed a joke; the room laughed without sound and somehow louder than usual. At lunch, two rivals passed salt like diplomats. The teachers discovered the music teacher had a beautiful handwriting and the math teacher drew cats nobody expected.
By afternoon, students tracked the janitor’s route and practiced Thank You in three languages with their hands. A late bell rang; nobody rushed it. The principal toured hallways that sounded like intentions instead of interruptions.
The next day, the noise came back gentler. A poster stayed: Use Inside Voice; Keep Inside Heart.
Moral: Quiet isn’t empty; it’s room for better words.
