Whatever it takes

I can remeber two specific teachers that did something to make a considerable difference in my education.

Fourth grade. I had Mrs. Gentry. I didn't want Mrs. Gentry. She was just an ordinary teacher. She seemed oldish. (Looking back now I realize she was really quite young. Prospective of youth.) But we weren't far into the school year when a genuine misfortune helped me understand how to appreciate. We were playing fruit bowl, I believe, in the gym. Mrs. Gentry was the kind who would actually play with us instead of sitting around on a chair or on the stage. We were running and laughing and having a blast when Mrs. Gentry was accidently kicked in the back of the leg by one of the students. She rolled to the ground and cried out in pain. I'd never seen an adult in pain before. It turned out she'd broken her Achilles tendon, something that would require a LONG recovery period. She was replaced for the next 2 or 3 months with Mrs. Nelson. Up until this point I had taken my shy, quiet nature for granted. Education was easy for me and I was content to just sit back and learn...if I felt like it. Teachers rarely, if ever, called on me to participate in class and I NEVER volunteered. Much much to shy. Times tables, however, were a struggle and so I just figured it'd come when it came. No need to worry. Mrs. Nelson, shorter, older, rounder, and meaner than Mrs. Gentry, had no intentions of letting anyone slide through her class. Her first day there she walked up and down the rows, to each individual child and asked them a times table. Even me! I was horrified! And then she did it again the next day! My dred and terror turned to evasive action immediately...that very day. I went home and studied and learned my times tables just so I could breath easier with Mrs. Nelson at the helm.

It was in the 7th grade that I had Miss P. She was my English teacher. One fortuitous morning she decided to read us a book. She picked up, prefaced and began reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (LONG before there was a movie). It was entrancing. I couldn't wait for my class the next day where she read chapter 2. Day three you won't believe what she did. After the typical lesson, whatever it was, she picked up the book, turned it around a few time in her hands, eyed it carefully while watching our anticipation. Then...she put it back down!!! "I don't think I'm going to finish reading this book," she said. "If you want to find out what happens you'll have to read it yourself." WHAT!? It was the first book I ever check out from that library, but not the last. I read that and every other book in the series. Then I moved on to The Hobbit, which gave me nightmares. So I found some other books that piqued my interest, and have never quit finding books since she aroused my interest as to what lies beneath the cover of the next tale.

Thank you Mrs. P. Thank you Mrs. Nelson. (And thank you, too, Mrs. Gentry.)