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Kasumii's avatar

This made me misty eyed. I sit here remembering my first grade teacher and her gentle kindness toward a terribly abused, frightened child. She was the first person who made me think I might not be the waste of space I was told I was every single day at home. She made me feel something that I did not know what it was until I was older - she made me feel like I mattered to her. One day she asked each of us what we liked about school and she patiently waited while I squirmed, incredibly frightened at needing to speak up around other people. I managed to choke out that I liked to read and to take spelling tests. I ducked my head and waited on her to berate and mock me but instead she smiled and handed me a book she said I might like. I almost burst into tears at such acceptance and kindness.

Those tiny sparks of light were everything to me. I thought of her on my first day of college, each time I made the Dean’s List, as I stood in the door of a C-130 preparing to make my first jump during jump school; during each first that I have accomplished in life I remember her kindness and encouragement. I was able to thank her before I left for the military many years ago but I so wish she were still here so I could thank her again.

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Meg's avatar

I cannot tell you how much your writing about teachers touches me. I retired after teaching English for 30 years in a public high school in southwest Ohio. I loved my job. I am still in touch with some colleagues with whom I worked and with many students that I taught over those 30 years. Teaching is the best, hardest, most frustrating, and most rewarding job in the world. I am so blessed to have worked in a profession I loved. Thanks for a concrete reminder.

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