Maybe all I wanted was significance. To be a Teacher’s Pet for the Day. I have never been, you see. And, I didn’t know how to be one. I was clearly not the smartest or most popular student in class, like Anna or Abigail. My parents didn’t visit the school or give Christmas and birthday gifts to my teachers, like the moms and dads of Jenny and Grace.
But one Valentine’s-cum-Teacher’s-Day, I found myself scribbling an appreciation poem for my grade four homeroom advisor and English teacher, Ms. Nelia Jose. She smiled and said “Thank you.” Then, she sat by her small yellow desk and started to read the poem. She nodded and smiled as she read.
“Do you have any other poems?” she asked afterwards.
“Yes!” I didn’t. But I had to say yes. And, she smiled once more and asked to see them the next day.
So I spent the rest of my day writing verses on any piece of scrap paper I found. I didn’t play with my friends at the playground. I didn’t talk to anyone at the school bus. I missed all my favourite afternoon cartoons on television. And, I only stopped writing because my mom wouldn’t let me skip dinner.
The next day, I presented my first “Poem Folder” to Ms. Nelia. The folder was a pink cardboard paper, which I folded in half to hold over a dozen of verses I wrote. And once more, she nodded, smiled - and marked me for life.
It no longer mattered if I wasn’t the smartest or most popular kid in class. I didn’t care anymore that my parents weren’t rich. Somehow, when you find something significant in your life, everything else fades.
Ms. Nelia Jose taught me all these without having to really say anything. And I’m now living the rest of my life hanging on each unspoken word.
“It is tremendous when someone kindles a spark of hope in our hearts about writing. It is then that we begin to make progress.” - David B. Woodward
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