I Wish I Could See My Teacher Again
When I was a child, I was not really into school. I felt weird toward it and did not have many friends. I was perceived as a weird kid, and not so many kids wanted to hang out with me. It was not that I looked different or behaved different, it is just that kids are cruel sometimes. I did not play much attention to it and carried on with my business every day. One day, on the first day of the fourth grade, I met my new teacher. She was so kind and awesome, I remember that she used to motivate us to be creative, and pursue our wishes, and eventually fulfilling them. She was understanding and personalized our education, tending to our individual needs. I’ve always considered myself a thoughtful kind of person, who can feel lonely sometimes. When that happened, she told me that I had nothing to be afraid of, and I eventually made friends in my class, friends I still have. She taught me many lessons, many of them not related to the fourth grade, nor the classroom. The lessons were about accepting myself the way I aim, and enjoying what I did. A couple of years ago, I met her at a supermarket. I came up to her and said hi, her gaze was addled, like lost. I introduced myself, but she did not seem to recognize me. She had Parkinson’s disease, she told me, and she did not remember many things. I talked to her for a bit, and even though she did not recognize me, I will always carry her lessons every place I go.
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