I love you all.........almost!

“Good morning class! Love you all”

Mrs. Thompson walked in that bright Monday morning, and as she did every day, she said to her Class 7 students “Good Morning class! Love you all”.

But she knew she was lying, because she could not feel that love for one of the students in the class. He sat there, in the front row, slumped in his seat, unkempt and untidy - Teddy Stoddard. There was nothing in Teddy that drew attention from Mrs. Thompson. He didn’t play well with other children, and he constantly needed a bath. She was indifferent to him. In fact, she delighted in picking on him for every negative example and ignoring him for all the positive reasons. It soon got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would take delight in making bold X’s and then putting a big “F” at the top of his papers.

That year, she wrote the progress report for the quarter, and gave it to the school principal to countersign it, as was the system in the school. The principal called Mrs. Thompson “A progress report should reflect some progress. It should make a parent feel “My child has a future.” The comments you have written in Teddy’s progress report – his parents will give up on him!”

Mrs. Thompson (indignantly) “There is nothing I can do. I have nothing positive to write about that child!”

The Principal was flabbergasted! He immediately called the administrative staff – “Get me the progress reports of Theodore Stoddard – all his past progress reports”.

As the administrative staff traced the reports and handed it to the school principal, he sent them over to Mrs. Thompson. “Go over Teddy’s reports of the past years, and then tell me this child does not have a future!”

Mrs. Thompson picked Teddy’s report of Class 1. In bold letters in the final remarks – “Teddy is the brightest child in this class.” She was stunned by what she read.

His second grade report read, “Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around.”

His third grade teacher had written- “Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates but he is troubled because his mother has terminal cancer and life at home must be a struggle. She is not able to give him the attention she used to, and it is just beginning to show in his performance”

His fourth grade report read, “Teddy has lost his mother, and with that, himself. His mother’s death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn’t show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren’t taken. He desperately needs help, otherwise we will lose this child.”

Teddy’s fifth grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is withdrawn and doesn’t show much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class.”

Tears welled up in Mrs. Thompson’s eyes. She realized the problem what the problem was, and she felt ashamed of herself. She looked at the Principal and said “I know what needs to be done”

She went back to her class the next morning, stood on the dias and said “Good morning class! Love you all”. But she knew she was lying. Because right then, the love she was feeling for Teddy was far far greater than the rest of the class.

She decided to change her approach. For every positive reason, Teddy’s name was called. There was no more a negative reference to him.

The last day of the term arrived. All the children had brought her presents for their teacher, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper. There was only gift that was wrapped clumsily in an old newspaper. Her instincts told her that gift was from Teddy. She opened it first, to find a half used bottle of perfume, and a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing.

“Look at that! It must be Teddy who gave Mrs. Thompson such a stupid gift”, a few of the kids laughed.

But Mrs. Thompson knew better. “What a lovely bracelet! Such a lovely perfume” (action of putting on bracelet and dabbing perfume on wrist)

Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, “Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mother used to.”

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. She vowed to help bring Teddy back to his former self. She paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in his class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of the “teacher’s pets”.

A year later, she found a note on her table, “I’ve seen few more teachers, but you’re still the best teacher I’ve ever had. With Love, Teddy”

Six years went by before she got another note: “Mrs. Thompson, I’ve finished high school, third in my class. I’ve met many more teachers, yet you are still the best teacher I ever had my whole life. With Love, Teddy”

Four years after that, she got another letter, “Mrs. Thompson, things have been tough at times, but I stayed in school, and stuck with it, like you taught me to. I’m soon going to be graduating from college with the highest of honors. I’ve met more teachers, but you are still the best and my favourite teacher. With Love, Teddy”

Then four years passed and yet another letter came. This time Teddy explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter assured her that she was still the best and favourite teacher he ever had his whole life. But now his name was a little longer – the letter was signed, Dr. Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.

Yet another letter came that spring from Dr. Theodore, “I’m getting married, and I cannot dream of getting married without your presence.” Enclosed were to and fro flight tickets to the wedding. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing. When she reached the church though, she was a little nervous, so she sat right at the back. But volunteers identified her and ushered her to the very front row, where there was a chair reserved for “Mother of the groom”.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson’s ear,

“Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.”

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said,

“Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. You taught me that a teacher first needs to be a mother to all the students in her class. I didn't know how to teach until I met you.”

Silver Linings

“Are you kidding me!? You can’t just cancel a bus and provide no alternate bus! What kind of travel company are you!?”

Seething in anger, I couldn't stop yelling at the “customer care operative” of the travels I had booked to return from Hyderabad. I had been there for a day’s work, and was to leave that night at 8 PM, by a reputed private travels. However, fate had something else in store for me that day. At 4 PM I received a text message informing me that my bus was cancelled, and asking me to call a number for further details. Assuming cancellation meant just a change of bus, and that the travels would just put me onto some other bus, I dialed in to the number without much concern. That lack of concern disappeared few seconds into the call, because I was informed my bus had broken down, and that they would refund me the money.

I was stunned! I was new to the city of Hyderabad, and had absolutely no friends, relatives or acquaintances there at all. Relief swept over me as I realized that despite my numerous reassurances that I am capable of travelling on my own in a new city, my dad (the most resourceful person I know) had insisted that he come along. But my relief was short-lived, since now that meant two of us stranded in a new city. Further probing the travel operator revealed that although the bus had not actually broken down, there were issues being faced by all private bus operators at the tolls, and hence to avoid that, all private travels had cancelled buses. She kept assuring me that she would get me a bus the following night if I needed it, but I was not confident that they would keep up their promise. Add to that the fact that I had an important meeting scheduled for the day after, I couldn't afford to reach late. I declined, and then my crazy adventure began.

As dad and I stood on the outskirts of Hyderabad, with no clue of what to do next, dad noticed a young gentleman driving out of the campus. Instinctively he asked him if he could drop us to the nearby bus stand. The young man obliged and we got in. While we explained our plight to him, he informed us that he was a localite and then not only dropped us at the travel agency, but also waited until we got our reimbursement and booked tickets via another private travels (something we wouldn't have been able to do alone, considering the language barrier). The angel in disguise then informed us where to board the bus for our return journey, gave us his card to contact him if we needed any further help and then bid us farewell.

It was 6 PM, 2 and a half hours before our return bus, and with the relief of finding a new means to get back home, I was relieved. I tried to ignore the fact that I had just paid twice the price that I paid for an AC bus, and yet I now had last row seats on a non AC bus – the journey back home was sure to be a bumpy one. The travel agency had informed us that a van would pick us at 8 PM and then we’d be taken to the bus to be boarded.Soon it was 8 30 PM, yet we saw no sign of the van, and attempts to call the travels office or the driver prove futile as no one picked the phone. To our immense relief we then found another group of people who also were waiting for the same van and we found solace in our group abandonment. The van finally arrived at 9 PM, and we finally reached my most dearest object at that time- the bus!

If you, just like I did at that time, are wondering how did this particular travels plan to avoid highway tolls? Well, they just didn't take the highway! Every possible gully road was taken on the return journey, and being on the penultimate seat (which cannot be pushed back to relax), made me believe that things couldn't possibly get worse. For a youngster, I almost felt my back break – I couldn't even begin to imagine how horrific the journey must have been for older people like my dad. It is said that just when you think things cannot get worse, they do. And so they did in this case too. The bus which was scheduled to reach Bangalore at 9 AM, finally drops us off in Bangalore at 11 30 AM. Famished and exhausted, we made our way back home, glad that the ordeal was finally over.

As I reflect upon the incident, I realize that while the journey was over, the lessons I learnt would stay with me for a lifetime. One that stands out - There are a few angels around us, who willingly go out to help those in need, and to the one angel who helped us in our time of need, I am deeply indebted. It’s thanks to people like him that we continue to have faith in humanity. Lest assured,  should I be in his position some day, I will willingly lend that helping hand.