Mira Brown quit her job as a paraprofessional because of the low salary. She is seen here with Daniella at Ojus Elementary. DONNA E. NATALE PLANAS/MIAMI HERALD STAFF Chapter 1 gallery

On her last day at Ojus Elementary School, Mira Brown's eyes swelled as a tear trickled down her cheek. She gasped when 6-year-old Daniella Ghunaim asked if it were true.

"She didn't really believe I was leaving," said Brown, 26, a school paraprofessional for seven years. "I didn't expect it to be that hard . . . just seeing her face."

For the past year, Brown had helped her make sense of words and numbers, blurred by a brain tumor that robbed most of her vision. As Daniella's assigned para, Brown was always there, nudging her along as a guide in the fog.

But on that Tuesday morning in August, Brown tried to say goodbye, turning to the door before more tears betrayed her resolve.

"I really didn't want to leave, but I couldn't pay my bills," said Brown, who left for more pay in the financial industry. "I saw the pay raise and said that was it."

After seven years with the district, earning about $11,000 a year, she said she was given a $2,300 raise before the start of school -- but that still wasn't enough with a 2-year-old son to raise. She got tired of working extra jobs -- security guard and store clerk -- to make ends meet. Catching two buses to and from work every day was also wearing.

Her absence from Ojus has taken its toll on Daniella, who is having a difficult time adjusting. She spent last year enrolled in a gifted class.

This year, in second grade, the district shifted her to a regular classroom. Writing in Braille, which Brown helped teach her, kept Daniella from keeping up with her peers.

"It's been tough on her, and as her mother, it really hurts inside," said Patricia Ghunaim. "She's already having to adjust to her new classmates, and Mira leaving was really traumatic for her."

But Ghunaim understands Brown's reason for leaving. "The work paraprofessionals are required to do is a lot, and they don't pay them enough," she said.

Brown is not the only critical educator who recently faded from Daniella's life. The child's mobility specialist, Caren Lyman, left for a higher-paying job in Broward County.

With Lyman gone, Daniella receives mobility instruction once a month because there is only one such therapist districtwide. Last year, she received therapy once a week.

Linda Rose, a special-education teacher for the visually impaired, remains with Daniella. Paraprofessionals like Brown perform "a very necessary job, but the compensation doesn't encourage people to become paras," said Rose, 57.

For Brown, what started as a dream to become a teacher for the visually impaired ended in disappointment.

"There was no room for growth working as a para," she said. Brown said she taught herself Braille to better serve visually impaired students.

"There's things me and my husband want to accomplish," she said. "We have dreams like everyone else."

But Brown admitted she misses working with kids, and sometimes thinks about going back to the school system.

After Brown left Ojus, Daniella was assigned a new paraprofessional, who is optimistic about working with the girl.

"I love working with Daniella," said Jessica Haynes, 23. "She's an amazing little girl."

She, too, may soon fade from Daniella's view. She plans to go to graduate school next fall. Until then, Haynes said, her work provides inspiration: "I was looking for a job that was rewarding, where I could make an impact."