The years passed. I moved away to a distant city where I would complete high school. I wish now that I had saved her notes to me. They were like a balm to a troubled life. College followed and I received a degree in education. During those years I corresponded with her. She did not forget my name, nor did I ever forget what she had done for me. She mentored a little blond haired girl who needed to know self-value and believed I had potential no matter the circumstances. Years past and she was thrilled with every child born into our home. She followed their progress on through college.
I made my way back to my hometown to lay my Mother to rest after an aggressive battle with Alzheimer’s. There was my mentor who had shared the same birthday with my Mother; she reminded me again.
Retirement came for her after forty years in the classroom and she shined like a diamond in many people’s eyes. Now she had more time to travel with her husband. One morning I received a long distance call from her in another state. She wanted to visit my classroom in about four hours. What pure joy it was for me to present my own third grade teacher to my students. She also wanted to meet my principal. A trophy or award would not have been more appreciated. My joy bubbled just as it had so many years ago as an eight year old.
