Ode to a Great Teacher
How does one even begin to write about the gratitude and love that they had for someone who is no longer here? The pain that is felt and will always be felt is too strong to even allow one to decide where to start. Yet, this is not about how one hurts when a loved one leaves them. It is in fact a tribute to the one that showed them so much and allowed them to live with them even if it wasn’t long enough.
Our story begins when I was but a tiny six year old lost in a new country and surrounded by a language I did not understand. Your words did not make sense as you reached out and took my hand. You guided me to that reading room as I trembled and walked in. The work you put into helping me learn how to read in English was amazing. How you were able to get those letters and words across to me I will never know. You repeated letters and words until they become songs in my dreams. Those words soon made connections with the pictures in the books. The pictures replayed over and over in my mind while I slept and even when I was awake. Your soft encouragement allowed my trembling hands to find comfort and my fear slowly vanished.
Once my fear was gone I couldn’t help but develop a love for the language I was learning. I become obsessed with learning everything you had to teach me. I felt anticipation every time I knew you would be coming to take me to read. Your drive to help me learn to read was unimaginable and even though I know you did the exact same for everyone of your students, I still felt special. That was one of your talents and powers you had as a teacher. You treated each and every single student as unique and wonderful as possible. You taught my siblings, cousins, and friends with the same passion that you taught me. You had a laughter that made all sorts of fears vanish when it came to learning.
I was in your class a short time but it was enough to make a bond for a life time and even after that. As I grew older and left the school my siblings and cousins stayed behind. So each visit I once again anticipated hearing what advice you might have or what crazy story you would tell me. You looked forward to hearing what I had to tell you of my growing love in books. You didn’t just teach me how to read in a language that I had never once heard until I moved to this country. You taught me to love any language no matter how scary it could be to learn in. You taught me how to love reading anything and everything I could get my hands on. You taught me to love books because each one had a great adventure waiting for me. You made my life easier in a country that seemed to consume me with its unknown hands.
As I grew older and visited less you still found a way to come back into my life when I went to work at the same school I had gone to, and where you still worked. It didn’t surprise me one bit that you were still teaching there because that love you showed me was not enough. You needed to show it to many more students. You had so much more of it to give that you kept on working as hard as always to teach students to read. I was completely excited and happy to be working with you and looked forward to what else you could teach me.
I loved hearing all your funny crazy stories about your family and how much your daughters had grown. You remembered all of my siblings and my cousins so we filled our breaks or hallway conversations with talking about our lives. I loved walking past your classroom and seeing the students come alive as you taught them. I saw the same happiness and joy in them that I had felt when I was your student. I loved saving you mashed potatoes from the lunch room since I knew how much you loved them. I loved hearing your laughter in the break room and down the hallways. You were just filled with so much of it that it rang through the school.
Never did I once think that you would one day not fill those hallways with laughter when I saw you walking horridly to the nurses office with a bloody nose. It seems like that day was just a few weeks ago and I keep thinking that you are just home sick and will be going in to work tomorrow. You were so brave when you told everyone that you would be fighting a difficult battle with cancer. Even as you told us what you had been diagnosed with you smiled and assures us that it would be okay. You were the one who needed comforting and you took the time to provide that to others instead.
The battle you went through was beyond difficult as you went from one hospital to another always with hope. You smiled and still laughed as you had always done before. You taught and taught even on days you looked so defeated. As the year went by and we all saw how much the disease was taking from you, you kept being hopeful. That is one of the most important things you have taught me. Hopefulness is something that we must all learn to poses even when all seems lost.
The last time I saw you was on one of those lost sunny and warm days we had in the beginning of September. You told me how beautiful I looked with my white shorts and summer tan. You made time to make me feel good even as I looked at you and saw that there wasn’t much time left. I hugged your tiny body as you had once hugged my when I was afraid. I said goodbye knowing but still wishing it wouldn’t be our last goodbye.
I missed your birthday celebration that was held a week before you left us and was upset with myself. I learned of your passing and regretted myself for not having gone to say one last goodbye. In the end I believed that you had chosen to say your last goodbye to me that September day in our school’s break room. That school where we first met and you showed me the love of reading was where you chose to say goodbye.
