I don’t mean this to sound like a pick-up line but did it hurt when you fell from Heaven, because you are an angel?
I’m mostly not kidding. When you hear stories like those out of Oklahoma last week and Newtown last December, stories of teachers saving lives (sometimes by giving their own), you start to think they may be the greatest gift to human kind.
I’ve always had a fondness for teachers. After all, my mother is one. So are several of my closest friends. There was a time when I wanted to be one too. You were like a superhero and I spent many childhood days playing teacher in the faux classroom of our basement.
Teacher, we have a storied past, don’t we? In elementary school you had to stop me from putting glue on my hand and peeling it off like skin (thanks, Mrs. Robinson). In middle school you exposed me to the first book that changed my world, (thanks, Mr. Hertlein) and took me on my first overnight field trip (thanks, Mrs. Spector).
In high school you taught me basic geometry (thanks, Mr. Wade) and American literature (thanks, Mr. Timmons), exposed me to U.S. history (thanks, Mrs. Morrison), and prepared me for
writing college papers (thanks, Mr. Hopkins). In college you encouraged me to think about what good works could be done with my degree (thanks, Dr. Davis), and in graduate school you made some of that work a reality (thanks, Dr. Arterton).
Intermixed with all that math, science, history and English, you found time teach me about kindness, compassion and humour. You (along with great parents) made me want to create a life with meaning. I owe most everything I have and most everything I hope to accomplish to you.
So thanks for that.