Today I did not yell

It's true, I did not yell. I can't totally say that I wanted to yell and didn't; I just know that today, I did not yell.
There were plenty of things to yell about. There was a certain someone who was running around the perimeter of our room. This included running on top of any chairs that were in his way. He also took a prize pencil, from my desk: my desk, the only place in the room that you're not supposed to mess with. And when I picked up the phone to call the school counselor (because he was running around the room and taking things off my desk), he reached across my desk to the phone handset and hung up the phone.
"And now I have to call your mom," I responded.
"No no no no no!" he protested. "Don't call her!" he pleaded.
"You have to go to your seat and you have to return the pencil," I explained.

I watched as he walked slowly across the room, pencil still in hand.
I plotted ways to take it from him, ways to trick him in to putting it down, but then I told myself, "It's just a pencil. It is just a pencil. Even if he takes it home today and doesn't give it back, all it is, is a pencil."
Of course, all the kids around him started looking at it, asking him, "You finished practicing all our facts?" and "How come he gets a pencil?" (You get the pencil for turning in a completed sheet where you mark down all the minutes you've been practicing your times tables).

This was really hard to not react to. Inside my head, I was so afraid of the truth: "Oh, so it's okay for him to steal a pencil off your desk? He gets rewarded for this out-of-control behavior? Why does he get special treatment while all the "good kids" have to just sit there, and watch this blatant injsutice? And, what, you can't control this kid? He can just do whatever he wants and you don't do anything about it?"
But outside my head, inside the actual classroom that I was in, I knew what was really going on. He is in transition. His home life has completely changed in the last four days. He is running around the room because his body doesn't know how to deal with all the emotions that are going on inside him. He came across the pencil on my desk and picked it up because it was cool. He doesn't want to give it back because it's cool. He hung up the phone, not in defiance or disrespect, but out of absolute fear of going to "the office."
He is not bad. He is not trying to hurt me or anyone else. He is overhwhelmed by his current circumstance and any sort of safe haven he might have had before- home- has recently been turned upside down. I wish I could share this with the rest of the class, say to them "This is what he is going through. This is a lot to deal with. He needs space and understanding," but I don't know how he would feel having me announce this to them. I'm pretty sure I know how they would respond, they would want to help him and they would understand.

So I let him run, and then I suggest that he sit in the "swirly" chair instead. I explain to him that it's okay to move but that he can't distract other kids. I tell him that I have to call the counselor if he's going to be unsafe around other kids. And at the end of the day, when it's time to go home, I ask if he knows where the pencil is. He says he doesn't. I say to him that we have to find the pencil one way or another and that I'd rather not look through his things to find it, that seems kind of mean. He produces the pencil and asks why he can't keep it. I say that he can have it as soon as he finishes practicing his facts. He says he has. I tell him that as soon as he brings in his sheet he can have the pencil. He repeats that he already finished it. I tell him I'll hold the pencil for him; I'll put it in my desk in a safe place and that it will be his pencil, for when he brings in his sheet.
He hands over the pencil.

Outside, after school, we see his dad. Somehow, his dad has figured out that he didn't have the best day and there is a look of frustration or "if I have to get a phone call..." on his face. Little one looks at dad and I can see the tears welling up at the base of his eyes.
I say nothing about his day. There is some discussion about transitions, about jobs and housing and how this week, there is just a lot going on. We say goodbye and I see him almost skip as he walks up the street, keeping up with his dad.