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 the 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 I meant anything to anyone!" and, "I
didn't know others liked me so much" were most 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 with their lives.
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 and former students.
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 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 recognise
it."
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces
of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded, and
refolded many times. The teacher knew without looking that the
papers were the ones 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 Vicki, 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,"
Vicki 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
for Mark and or all his friends who would never see him again,
remembering that fatefull day when they were all together as
children growing up to become the adults she saw today.
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