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If you are an educator or mentor young minds...
idsman75
Member Posts: 13,398 ✭✭✭
A friend of mine read this story to me on the phone tonight. It reminded me of the people who had some of the greatest impact on my life. This story is worth the read if you are an educator or if you mentor young children. I dare you to read it and NOT get watery eyes.
Three Letters from Teddy
Teddy?s letter came today and now that I?ve read it, I will place it in my
cedar chest with the other things that are important to my life.
?I wanted you to be the first to know.?
I smiled as I read the words he had written and my heart welled with a pride
that I had no right to feel.
I have not seen Teddy Stallard since he was a student in my fifth grade class
fifteen years ago. It was early in my career, and I had only been teaching for
two years.
From the first day he stepped into my classroom, I disliked Teddy. Teachers
(although everyone knows differently) are not supposed to have favorites in a
class, but most especially are they not to show dislike for a child, any child.
Nevertheless, every year there are one or two children that one cannot help but
be attached to, for teachers are human, and it is human nature to like bright,
pretty, intelligent people, whether they are ten years old or twenty-five. And
sometimes, not too often, fortunately, there will be one or two students to
whom the teacher just can?t seem to relate.
I had thought myself quite capable of handling my personal feelings along that
line until Teddy walked into my life. There wasn?t a child I particularly
liked that year, but Teddy was most assuredly the one I disliked. He was dirty.
Not just occasionally, but all the time. His hair hung low over his ears, and
he actually had to hold it out of his eyes as he wrote papers in class. (And
this was before it was fashionable to do so!) Too, he had a peculiar odor about
him which I could never identify. His physical faults were many, and his
intellect left a lot to be desired, also. By the end of the first week I knew
he was hopelessly behind the others. Not only was he behind; he was just plain
slow! I began to withdraw from him immediately.
Any teacher will tell you that it?s more of a pleasure to teach a bright
child. It is definitely more rewarding for one?s ego. But any teacher worth
her credentials can channel work to the bright child, keeping him challenged
and learning, while she puts her major effort on the slower ones. Any teacher
can do this. Most teachers do it, but I didn?t, not that year. In fact, I
concentrated on my best students and let the others follow along as best they
could. Ashamed as I am to admit it, I took perverse pleasure in using my red
pen; and each time I came to Teddy?s paper, the cross marks (and there were
many) were always a little larger and a little redder than necessary.
?Poor work!? I would write with a flourish.
While I did not actually ridicule the boy, my attitude was obviously quite
apparent to the class, for he quickly became the class ?goat,? the outcast:
the unlovable and the unloved. He knew I didn?t like him, but he didn?t.
know why. Nor did I know?then or now?why I felt such an intense dislike for
him. All I know is that he was a little boy no one cared about, and I made no
effort on his behalf.
The days rolled by. We made it through the Fall Festival and the Thanksgiving
holidays, and I continued marking happily with my red pen. As the Christmas
holidays approached, I knew that Teddy would never catch up in time to be
promoted to the sixth grade level. He would be a repeater. To justify myself, I
went to his cumulative folder from time to time. He had very low grades for the
first four years, but no grade failure. How he had made it, I didn?t know. I
closed my mind to the personal remarks.
First grade: Teddy shows promise by work and attitude, but has poor home
situation. Second grade: Teddy could do better. Mother terminally ill. He
receives little help at home. Third grade: Teddy is a pleasant boy. Helpful,
but too serious. Slow learner. Mother passed away end of the year. Fourth
grade: Very slow, but well behaved. Father shows no interest. Well, they had
passed him four times, but he will certainly repeat fifth grade! Do him good! I
said to myself.
And then the last day before the holiday arrived. Our little tree on the reading
table sported paper and popcorn chains. Many gifts were heaped underneath,
waiting for the big moment. Teachers always get several gifts at Christmas, but
mine that year seemed bigger and more elaborate than ever. There was not a
student who had not brought me one. Each unwrapping brought squeals of delight,
and the proud giver would receive effusive thank-yous.
His gift wasn?t the last one I picked up; in fact it was in the middle of the
pile. Its wrapping was a brown paper bag, and he had colored Christmas trees
and red bells all over it. It was stuck together with masking tape. ?For Miss
Thompson, from Teddy? it read. The group was completely silent and for the
first time I felt conspicuous, embarrassed because they all stood watching me
unwrap the gift. As I removed the last bit of masking tape, two items fell to
my desk: a gaudy rhinestone bracelet with several stones missing and a small
bottle of dime-store cologne-half empty.
I could hear the snickers and whispers, and I wasn?t sure I could look at
Teddy. ?Isn?t this lovely?? I asked, placing the bracelet on my wrist.
?Teddy, would you help me fasten it?? He smiled shyly as he fixed the
clasp, and I held up my wrist for all of them to admire. There were a few
hesitant ooh?s and ahh?s, but as I dabbed the cologne behind my ears, all
the little girls lined up for a dab behind their ears.
I continued to open gifts until I reached the bottom of the pile. We ate our
refreshments, and the bell rang. The children filed out with shouts of ?See
you next year!? and ?Merry Christmas!? but Teddy waited at his desk..
When they had all left, he walked up to me, clutching his gift and books to his
chest. ?You smell just like my mom,? he said softly. ?Her bracelet looks
real pretty on you too. I?m glad you liked it.?
He left quickly. I locked the door, sat down at my desk, and wept, resolving to
make up to Teddy what I had deliberately deprived him of?a teacher who cared.
I stayed every afternoon with Teddy from the end of Christmas holidays until the
last day of school. Sometimes we worked together. Sometimes he worked alone
while I drew up lesson plans or graded papers. Slowly but surely he caught up
with the rest of the class. In fact, his final averages were among the highest
in the class, and although I knew he would be moving out of the state when
school was out, I was not worried for him. Teddy had reached a level that would
stand him in good stead the following year, no matter where he went. He had
enjoyed a measure of success, and as we were taught in our teacher training
courses, ?Success builds success.?
I did not hear from Teddy until seven years later, when his first letter
appeared in my mailbox.
?Dear Miss Thompson,
I just wanted you to be the first to know, I will be graduating second in my
class next month.
Very Truly Yours, Teddy Stallard?
I sent him a card of congratulations and a small package, a pen and pencil gift
set. I wondered what he would do after graduation. Four years later, Teddy?s
second letter came.
?Dear Miss Thompson,
I wanted you to be the first to know. I was just informed that I will be
graduating first in my class. The university has not been easy, but I liked it.
Very Truly Yours, Teddy Stallard?
I sent him a good pair of sterling silver monogrammed cuff links and a card, so
proud of him I could burst! And now today?Teddy?s third letter.
?Dear Miss Thompson,
I wanted you to be the first to know. As of today I am Theodore Stallard, M.D.
How about that!!?? I?m going to be married in July, the 2 7th, to be exact. I
wanted to ask if you could come and sit where Mom would sit if she were here.
I?ll have no family there as Dad died last year.
Very Truly Yours, Teddy Stallard?
I?m not sure what kind of gift one sends to a doctor on completion of medical
school and state boards. Maybe I?ll just wait and take a wedding gift, but a
note can?t wait.
?Dear Ted,
Congratulations! You made it, and you did it yourself! In spite of those like me
and not because of us, this day has come for you. God bless you. I?ll be at
the wedding with bells on!
Three Letters from Teddy
Teddy?s letter came today and now that I?ve read it, I will place it in my
cedar chest with the other things that are important to my life.
?I wanted you to be the first to know.?
I smiled as I read the words he had written and my heart welled with a pride
that I had no right to feel.
I have not seen Teddy Stallard since he was a student in my fifth grade class
fifteen years ago. It was early in my career, and I had only been teaching for
two years.
From the first day he stepped into my classroom, I disliked Teddy. Teachers
(although everyone knows differently) are not supposed to have favorites in a
class, but most especially are they not to show dislike for a child, any child.
Nevertheless, every year there are one or two children that one cannot help but
be attached to, for teachers are human, and it is human nature to like bright,
pretty, intelligent people, whether they are ten years old or twenty-five. And
sometimes, not too often, fortunately, there will be one or two students to
whom the teacher just can?t seem to relate.
I had thought myself quite capable of handling my personal feelings along that
line until Teddy walked into my life. There wasn?t a child I particularly
liked that year, but Teddy was most assuredly the one I disliked. He was dirty.
Not just occasionally, but all the time. His hair hung low over his ears, and
he actually had to hold it out of his eyes as he wrote papers in class. (And
this was before it was fashionable to do so!) Too, he had a peculiar odor about
him which I could never identify. His physical faults were many, and his
intellect left a lot to be desired, also. By the end of the first week I knew
he was hopelessly behind the others. Not only was he behind; he was just plain
slow! I began to withdraw from him immediately.
Any teacher will tell you that it?s more of a pleasure to teach a bright
child. It is definitely more rewarding for one?s ego. But any teacher worth
her credentials can channel work to the bright child, keeping him challenged
and learning, while she puts her major effort on the slower ones. Any teacher
can do this. Most teachers do it, but I didn?t, not that year. In fact, I
concentrated on my best students and let the others follow along as best they
could. Ashamed as I am to admit it, I took perverse pleasure in using my red
pen; and each time I came to Teddy?s paper, the cross marks (and there were
many) were always a little larger and a little redder than necessary.
?Poor work!? I would write with a flourish.
While I did not actually ridicule the boy, my attitude was obviously quite
apparent to the class, for he quickly became the class ?goat,? the outcast:
the unlovable and the unloved. He knew I didn?t like him, but he didn?t.
know why. Nor did I know?then or now?why I felt such an intense dislike for
him. All I know is that he was a little boy no one cared about, and I made no
effort on his behalf.
The days rolled by. We made it through the Fall Festival and the Thanksgiving
holidays, and I continued marking happily with my red pen. As the Christmas
holidays approached, I knew that Teddy would never catch up in time to be
promoted to the sixth grade level. He would be a repeater. To justify myself, I
went to his cumulative folder from time to time. He had very low grades for the
first four years, but no grade failure. How he had made it, I didn?t know. I
closed my mind to the personal remarks.
First grade: Teddy shows promise by work and attitude, but has poor home
situation. Second grade: Teddy could do better. Mother terminally ill. He
receives little help at home. Third grade: Teddy is a pleasant boy. Helpful,
but too serious. Slow learner. Mother passed away end of the year. Fourth
grade: Very slow, but well behaved. Father shows no interest. Well, they had
passed him four times, but he will certainly repeat fifth grade! Do him good! I
said to myself.
And then the last day before the holiday arrived. Our little tree on the reading
table sported paper and popcorn chains. Many gifts were heaped underneath,
waiting for the big moment. Teachers always get several gifts at Christmas, but
mine that year seemed bigger and more elaborate than ever. There was not a
student who had not brought me one. Each unwrapping brought squeals of delight,
and the proud giver would receive effusive thank-yous.
His gift wasn?t the last one I picked up; in fact it was in the middle of the
pile. Its wrapping was a brown paper bag, and he had colored Christmas trees
and red bells all over it. It was stuck together with masking tape. ?For Miss
Thompson, from Teddy? it read. The group was completely silent and for the
first time I felt conspicuous, embarrassed because they all stood watching me
unwrap the gift. As I removed the last bit of masking tape, two items fell to
my desk: a gaudy rhinestone bracelet with several stones missing and a small
bottle of dime-store cologne-half empty.
I could hear the snickers and whispers, and I wasn?t sure I could look at
Teddy. ?Isn?t this lovely?? I asked, placing the bracelet on my wrist.
?Teddy, would you help me fasten it?? He smiled shyly as he fixed the
clasp, and I held up my wrist for all of them to admire. There were a few
hesitant ooh?s and ahh?s, but as I dabbed the cologne behind my ears, all
the little girls lined up for a dab behind their ears.
I continued to open gifts until I reached the bottom of the pile. We ate our
refreshments, and the bell rang. The children filed out with shouts of ?See
you next year!? and ?Merry Christmas!? but Teddy waited at his desk..
When they had all left, he walked up to me, clutching his gift and books to his
chest. ?You smell just like my mom,? he said softly. ?Her bracelet looks
real pretty on you too. I?m glad you liked it.?
He left quickly. I locked the door, sat down at my desk, and wept, resolving to
make up to Teddy what I had deliberately deprived him of?a teacher who cared.
I stayed every afternoon with Teddy from the end of Christmas holidays until the
last day of school. Sometimes we worked together. Sometimes he worked alone
while I drew up lesson plans or graded papers. Slowly but surely he caught up
with the rest of the class. In fact, his final averages were among the highest
in the class, and although I knew he would be moving out of the state when
school was out, I was not worried for him. Teddy had reached a level that would
stand him in good stead the following year, no matter where he went. He had
enjoyed a measure of success, and as we were taught in our teacher training
courses, ?Success builds success.?
I did not hear from Teddy until seven years later, when his first letter
appeared in my mailbox.
?Dear Miss Thompson,
I just wanted you to be the first to know, I will be graduating second in my
class next month.
Very Truly Yours, Teddy Stallard?
I sent him a card of congratulations and a small package, a pen and pencil gift
set. I wondered what he would do after graduation. Four years later, Teddy?s
second letter came.
?Dear Miss Thompson,
I wanted you to be the first to know. I was just informed that I will be
graduating first in my class. The university has not been easy, but I liked it.
Very Truly Yours, Teddy Stallard?
I sent him a good pair of sterling silver monogrammed cuff links and a card, so
proud of him I could burst! And now today?Teddy?s third letter.
?Dear Miss Thompson,
I wanted you to be the first to know. As of today I am Theodore Stallard, M.D.
How about that!!?? I?m going to be married in July, the 2 7th, to be exact. I
wanted to ask if you could come and sit where Mom would sit if she were here.
I?ll have no family there as Dad died last year.
Very Truly Yours, Teddy Stallard?
I?m not sure what kind of gift one sends to a doctor on completion of medical
school and state boards. Maybe I?ll just wait and take a wedding gift, but a
note can?t wait.
?Dear Ted,
Congratulations! You made it, and you did it yourself! In spite of those like me
and not because of us, this day has come for you. God bless you. I?ll be at
the wedding with bells on!