One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of
the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between
each name.
Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they
could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish their
assignment and, as the students left the room, each one handed in their papers.
That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student
on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said about that
individual.
On Monday, she gave each student his or her list. Before long,
the entire class was smiling. “Really?” she heard whispered.
“I never knew that meant anything to anyone!” and “I
didn’t know others liked me so much” were some of the comments.
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never
knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn’t
matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with
themselves and one another.
That group of students moved on. Several years later, one
of the students was killed in Vietnam and his teacher attended the funeral of
that special student.
She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin
before. He looked so handsome, so mature.
The church was packed with his friends. One by one, those
who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was the last one to
bless the coffin.
As she stood there, one of the soldiers, who acted as a
pallbearer, came up to her. “Were you Mark’s math teacher?” he asked. She
nodded “Yes.” Then he said, “Mark talked about you a lot.”
After the funeral, most of Mark’s former classmates went together
to a luncheon. Mark’s mother and father were there, obviously waiting to speak
with his teacher.
“We want to show you something,” his father said, taking a
wallet out of his pocket. “They found this on Mark when he was killed. We
thought you might recognize it.”
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed a worn piece
of note paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times.
The teacher knew, without looking, that the paper was the
one on which she had listed all the good things each of Mark’s classmates had
said about him.
“Thank you so much for doing that,” Mark’s mother said.
“As you can see, Mark treasured it.”
All of Mark’s former classmates started to gather around.
Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, “I still have my list. It’s in the
top drawer of my desk at home.”
Chuck’s wife said, “Chuck asked me to put his in our
wedding album.” “I have mine, too,” Marilyn said. “It’s in my diary.”
Then Vickie, another classmate, reached into her
pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the
group. “I carry this with me at all times,” Vickie said, and without batting an
eyelash, she continued: “I think we all saved our lists.”
That’s when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried
for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.
Life can get so hectic that we forget that life will end
one day, and we don’t know when that one day will be.
So please, tell the people you love and care for that
they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.
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