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Dear Mr. L,

This is a letter I should have written long ago, and I’m ashamed that it took a tragic event to prompt me to write it.

I heard about the recent loss of your wife, and I wish I could properly express my sadness. I can’t imagine how difficult the past few months have been for you and your daughters. Please know you have been in my prayers and will continue to be.

It’s hard for me to think back to the times when you knew me, I don’t normally dwell on my high school years; they weren’t the happiest of my life. But, when I do look back, I always smile when I remember you and your class.

I think the highest compliment I can pay you as a teacher is to say that in your classroom I felt safe. Safe to express myself, safe to be myself, safe from things going on at home that I tried to pretend weren’t happening. At the time I thought I was very good at hiding stuff, only maturity and experience have shown me how transparent I must really have been.

You probably knew that my life had challenges, you couldn’t have known the extent of how frightened I was of my stepfather, and how much I hated being home and looked at school as a sanctuary, but I’m pretty sure you knew something was up. You were, in those years, exactly what I needed – a positive male role model, who showed genuine compassion and caring toward a troubled young female student without ever crossing a line you shouldn’t have. I don’t know how to thank you for that.

I remember so many instances where you demonstrated your true quality, but here is one in particular. I had a paper due in Mrs. R’s English class, when I was a junior. On the way in from the parking lot, it fell out of my binder into a puddle, and I tore it trying to pick it back up again. Here was my assignment, wet, dirty, and torn. I was upset almost to the point of tears.

You stopped me in the hall and asked me what was wrong, and when I told you, you took the papers from me, and said not to worry. A few minutes later you tracked me down and gave me a fresh, clean copy – you had gone to the teacher’s lounge, cleaned up the pages, and then made copies of them so they were good as new.

Small, insignificant gesture, maybe. But not to me. When so much of that time period of my life is blocked out of my memory – I remember that.

I remember hearing you talk about wanting to be a writer, and how excited by that idea I was. Last year, I had a few small things published – nothing major, I’ve teased my husband that I can take him out to dinner on what I’ve earned as a writer, but only if we skip the appetizer and drink water.

I don’t know that I would have done it without you. I mean, who can know what kind of influence we have in people’s lives? Perhaps I would have become a published writer without you ever crossing my path, but then again maybe not. You were one of those pivotal people, who encouraged my love of reading and writing, and told me that I could do it one day.

I remember the newspaper article that was written about you, when I was in your class. In it you said you wanted to make a difference in the lives of students, and were disappointed when there were some you couldn’t reach. You said you had a mentor who told you to reach the ones you can, and not worry about the ones you can’t, because “Even Jesus Christ didn’t save them all.”

Well if you are keeping a tally, I am one life you have made a positive difference in. I’m happily married, just celebrated my 13th anniversary, and have four children. I’m a full time Mom right now, but I’m already enrolled for the spring semester in college, to complete my undergraduate degree in education. I hope to head to graduate school and get a degree in Library & Information Systems, and work in public education where I can, God willing, pass along to a younger generation my love of books, and stories, and learning. After all this time you are still my teacher – I want to learn from you, from the example you set for me those years ago, and model my teaching career after that example.

It seems so inadequate to close by just saying Thank You again. I hope that you have some comfort in a difficult time, knowing how beloved you have been through the years by your former students. When Sabrina called me to talk to me about what happened, we stayed on the phone swapping stories from your class, and talking about how much we loved being taught by you, and knowing you. Again, I am sorry for your loss.

May God Bless you, and your family.

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