My first grade year was a hard one. My parents’ divorce and the move from our home to a small duplex in the town over caused a lot of change and upset. Mrs. D made that year gentler and she was sweet sweet sweet. I remember her taking me on her lap when I was crying bc my scholastic books came in later than everyone else’s. I remember her brushing my hair before a concert. I remember learning about different cultures and different skin tones with her.
She is one of the biggest reasons I became a teacher. She really saw me then. For a while, I was showing up to school with hair and teeth unbrushed, with reworn clothes, and having a rough go of it. Y’all know what she did? She took me to the mall and bought me clothes and treats, let me pick a Christmas present for my family members–the whole time speaking immense love into my little heart.
When I was in college, these memories rushed back to me during one of my education courses. And I’ve been able to stay in touch with her since then. She still speaks immense love into my big girl heart, and she is still sweet sweet sweet.
On this trip home, we got together in the flesh. When I say honey and nectar and balm, I mean honey and nectar and balm. I’m finding myself in a moment of unknown, transition, and disorient. But talking with her encouraged a sense of peace and calm.
I would be remiss if I did not mention her voice in my head “It’s not me, it’s God. It’s not luck, it’s a blessing.”
This teacher has truly altered the direction of my life more than once and I am much more than grateful for her influence and kindness. Her example of grace and generosity has had a profound impact on me.
To Mrs. D and to teachers all around, thank you thank you thank you.
(from the archives)
❤️☮️