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The
Teaching Story
Hey groovilizers, You know I'm a teacher, right?
Well here's how much I like
teaching:
There is a story many years ago of an elementary teacher.
Her name was
Mrs.
Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade
class on the very
first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like
most teachers, she
looked at her students and said that she loved them all
the same. But that
was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped
in
his seat, was a
little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and
noticed that he didn't
play well with the other children, that his clothes were
messy and that he
constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be
unpleasant.
It got to the
point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in
marking his
papers
with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a
big "F" at the top
of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was
required
to review each
child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last.
However, when she
reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise. Teddy's
first grade teacher
wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He
does his work neatly
and has good manners...he is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent
student, well liked
by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother
has a terminal
illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has
been hard on him. He
tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much
interest and his home
life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn
and doesn't show
much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends
and
sometimes sleeps
in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was
ashamed of herself.
She felt even worse when her students brought her
Christmas presents,
wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for
Teddy's. His
present which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown
paper that he got
from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it
in the middle of
the other presents. Some of the children started to
laugh
when she found a
rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and
a
bottle that was
one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the
children's laughter when
she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on,
and dabbing some
of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long
enough to say, "Mrs.
Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to."
After the children
left she cried for at least an hour.
On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing,
and arithmetic.
Instead, she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she
worked with him,
his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged
him, the faster he
responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one
of the smartest
children in the class and, despite her lie that she would
love all the
children the same, Teddy became one her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from
Teddy,
telling her that
she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole
life.
Six years went by before she got another note from
Teddy.
He then wrote
that he had finished high school, third in his class, and
she was still the
best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years
after that, she got
another letter, saying that while things had been tough
at
times, he'd
stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon
graduate from college
with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson
that
she was still
the
best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came.
This time he
explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he
decided to go a
little
further. The letter explained that she was still the best
and favorite
teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little
longer-the
letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet
another letter that
spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be
married. He
explained that his father had died a couple of years ago
and he was
wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the
place
at the wedding
that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.
Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore
that bracelet, the
one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure
she was wearing
the
perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their
last Christmas
together.
They hugged each, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs.
Thompson's ear, "Thank
you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much
for making me
feel
important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back.
She said, "Teddy,
you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me
that I could make a
difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
Warm someone's heart today.... Pass it along.
Tatty, I have tears in my eyes right now! I cried so hard when i read your
moving story! That story is what I do ALL DAY! XCEPT I DON'T wear perfume! : ) I
stayed after school drilling two "hopeless cases"... They promised me they
would study alone at home and with each other-we will get together again on
Friday-my contract provides that I already finished yesterday with them!
I am
teaching ALL WEEKEND, because I am determined that all my students should
achieve "A"s. Already every single student in my Funk drumming lab this week
achieved "A"s or "A-"s (I am a strict stoic grader, but a warm and encouraging
teacher. I get very little feedback verbally from the students. I am catching a
hard time from the security office asking me why I need 24 hour access to my
teaching studio- I explained that I often travel and then I spend long hours
including weekends making up classes! (Haven't they ever encountered a
dedicated teacher?)
My mother gets up 4:30 in the morning often, to run a
school 2 blocks away from her house. The maintenance man died, and she has not
yet found someone she trusts, so she does some of his work, runs the
school, and still devotes herself fiercely to her students... In my forty two
years I have NEVER heard her complain about it. (I'm not holding my breath,
either!) Plus she has dreams of furthering her professional singing career! She's my heroine(sorry Mom I know you don't like it when I say that : ))
My
Grandmother taught piano for 50 years in her own studio - she inspired the
family for generations to come and galvanized the neighborhood with her music
and religious conviction! Starting from now and for the rest of the century I
will do my best never to be late for any appointment. : )
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