What Matters

What Matters--

Tom was my second grade student.  He was the cutest little boy.  Lots of hair and a sweet, sweet smile. His mom was also a teacher so we had much in common.

Shortly after Tom moved to the next grade, my husband accepted a transfer to the Midwest.  Life began again.  New job, new baby, new friends, new environment.  And the years slipped away as years do.

Eventually my love for the Northwest necessitated purchasing a condo in a city close to Tom's hometown.  The condo was unfurnished.  On a trip to buy furniture, I remembered there had been a store in Tom's hometown.  Driving into the town was like returning home.  I taught second grade for five years there.  So many children--so many memories.

I located the store.  First on my list was a refrigerator.  An older gentleman asked if I needed help.  I most certainly did.  I needed more help than I thought when he asked what size I needed.  Refrigerators came in sizes??  Small?  Medium? Large?  Never thought about that.   It was apparent I would have to return to the condo and measure.  I told him I would call him with the size and then told him my name.

From a distance I remember seeing a younger man moving a chair.  When I said my name, he put the chair down and walked toward me.  He asked if he heard correctly.  Was I Sondra Wisdom?  Well, yes, I was and am!  He said he had wondered what had happened to me after we left the area.  He gave me a hug and said he was Tom.  Tom, my little second grade student all grown up and the owner of the furniture store.  Thirty years or so had passed since I last saw him.

What a happy reunion.  He told me that I had invited he and his mom to our home for dinner.  He even described the furniture in our house.  He asked if I remembered that he always kissed my hand as he left the classroom each day.  As he shared, floods of memories that I had tucked away in my mind came pouring out.  He said he knew my husband's name, and that I had a son before we were transferred.

Since that first meeting in his store, we have had several lovely visits.  He is a delightful man.  Is there a point to this essay?  Am I simply wandering down memory lane at your expense?

Yes, there are several points.  First, we don't realize the  impact we have on others.  He identified with my slightly off-center personality.  He saw me as a caring teacher who took time with him.  I don't think it ever entered my mind in those early years of teaching just how much of an impact teachers have on the students who occupy those chairs.  Students see teachers through their own lens.  We either make a lasting impression in a positive/negative way, or we make no impression at all.

Second, while test scores are important, we must remember that we teach people.  It is my one desire that we never forget this.  To this day not one former student has ever contacted me to thank me for their test score.  However, many have contacted me to visit as adult friends.  It has been my joy to sing at weddings for students, my sorrow to sing and speak at funerals, my intense delight to be a birth partner.  One student even called me from jail.  Those moments visiting with him are precious moments to me.

I have been privileged to share deep conversations, silly times, coffee, lunch, emails and calls with students. What joy for me to be included in a small part of their lives.  Learning about their lives brings me such pleasure.  And I am happy to say that most are quite successful adults.

Eventually, those students graduate and begin the next passage of their life.  Now they are no longer forced to listen to us in a classroom.  Maybe they are running the x-ray machine we are under.  Or maybe one will repair the car that is causing stress.  Another may check skin for cancer cells.  Or make sure the hair cut is just perfect.  No one stays a child forever.  It is a short passage of time.

Tom made sure the furniture I selected fit my condo perfectly.  He took time to help me measure and plan where pieces would best fit.  And while I appreciate his help and expertise, I cherish him as a person--all grown up from that little seven-year old student.  I feel blessed beyond words that his memories of me were good ones for him.

It truly does matter how we treat others--in and out of the classroom.  It matters how we greet strangers, how we treat those we love, how we respect views different from ours.  It matters that we work toward making this world a better place.  Yes, it really does matter that we are alive.  Even when we feel that we are only a speck in a big sea of sand, we must remember that that sand is made of individual specks.  We are part of something so huge.  And we do matter.

Meeting Tom after all those years was a wonderful gift.  Each time we visit, I enjoy him more.

Love you, Tom!