TEACH WITH MOTHERLY LOVE

TEACH WITH MOTHERLY LOVE

 [ A letter for our teachers]

Dear friends,

YESTERDAY was Sunday. It was a weekly off for many Such Sundays come and go. Saturdays will come and go, Sundays will come and go and Monday will come. And many of us will go back to work after enjoying our weekly holiday.   But it’s Diwali vacation of for the school children and those of you who teach them in our organisation. The vacations are coming to an end. You will go back to your class, may be on this coming Monday. We all resume our work after our weekly off or after a long vacation. So will you and so did this teacher – Mrs. Thompson.

It was Monday and she entered the class on that day. She had this habit of starting her class by saying, “I love you all my dear children.”  But she was lying because she could not feel that love for one of the children in the class, who was unkempt, untidy and there was nothing in the child that drew attention from Mrs. Thompson. She was a little indifferent to the child. She would pick him for every negative example and ignored for all the positive reasons. Not infrequently he was scornfully panned by this very teacher, who seemed to enjoy watching him wince under her satirical jabs, which were more painful than the doctor’s needle. A question, having been bungled or muffed by forty or fifty, would be tossed at him in some such manner as, “And of course you, you wouldn’t know the answer, would you, Teddy?” (Yes, that’s how he was called – TEDDY) And the whole class would burst out laughing.

That year she had written his progress report card for the first semester and there was this system in place in the school that the Head Master had to countersign every progress report of each and every child. Reverend Father Joseph was the principal and the Head Master then. On seeing this child’s report he immediately called for Mrs. Thompson and said to her,” A progress report should report some progress. It should make a parent feel ‘My child has a future’. But the way, you have written the progress report for Teddy and for that matter if one writes such a report for any child then the parent of that child will certainly give up on him.” Out came Mrs. Thompson prompt reply,” But Father Principal, there is nothing I can do for Teddy. I have nothing positive to write about the child”.  The principal was shocked to hear this. But he did not say anything to her then. He asked her to report to him again after some time. He then asked his administrative staff to immediately trace the old progress reports of all the previous years of Teddy and send them across to Mrs. Thompson’s class. Mrs. Thompson saw the third standard final progress report and it was written: ‘Teddy is the brightest child in the class’- the final remark. She was stunned by what she read. She read his fourth class results and the fifth class one. And progressively all the results suggested that he was going down. Teddy’s mother was suffering from terminal cancer. She was not able to devote much attention to Teddy, take up his studies as she used to earlier and it had begun to reflect on his progress. The fifth standard final report read: ‘Teddy has lost his mother and along with mother’s loss he has lost himself. He desperately needs help; otherwise   we will lose this child.’ By this time, there were tears in the eyes of Mrs. Thompson. The next day she went to the principal’s cabin, knocked and entered in. She looked at him and said, “I know what to do now, sir.”

She went to her class, looked at the children and from the dais of the class she again said, “I love you all my children.”  But she knew that she was lying. The love that she right now feeling for Teddy was far, far greater than love she had for the others in the class. She had decided to change her approach towards Teddy. Now every positive reasons and good example she called Teddy’s name and there were no more negative remarks for him.

It was the last day of their academic year. Every child had brought some gift or the other for their teacher. But there was this gift wrapped up in an old newspaper, which had turned yellow and the the print too had begun to fade. Somehow, may be because of her acute sense of a teacher, perhaps this sense every good and observant teacher possesses ( good teachers like many of you are), Mrs. Thompson knew that it must be from Teddy. She carefully opened the parcel. A half filled perfume bottle and a bracelet from which a few stones had already fallen, were in there. The whole class laughed for they knew that it was from Teddy. Without saying anything Mrs. Thompson picked up the perfume bottle, unscrewed the cap and sprayed the half-used perfume on herself. Then she took the bracelet and wore it.

There was a hint of a smile on Teddy’s lips. He said, “Teacher, now you are smell like my mother.  This the last perfume that she used before she left me and this bracelet was the last thing that was removed from her body before she was taken into the coffin.”

By the end of the next year there was a note on Mrs. Thompson’s table, which read: I have seen few more teachers but you are, Mrs. Thompson, still the best teacher I ever had - With love, Teddy.

Every year, at the end of academic Mrs. Thompson would get letter from Teddy and which always read: I have seen few more teachers but you are, Mrs. Thompson, still the best teacher I ever had - With love, Teddy. Soon Teddy passed out from the school, but the letters kept coming at the end of each academic year and was always the same: I have seen few more teachers but you are, Mrs. Thompson, still the best teacher I ever had - With love, Teddy.

Years rolled by and they had lost contact with each other. Mrs. Thompson had retired by now. Then one day, some courier agent traced her and handed over to her a letter. It was from Dr. Theodore.  Teddy had gone on to become a doctor. Teddy had done his Ph.D.  He had acquired a doctorate.  And the letter read: I have seen many more people in life, Mrs. Thompson. This is your Teddy and you are the best teacher that I have come across. I am getting married and I cannot dream of getting married without your presence. Along with letter were enclosed to and fro flight tickets to Cochin. She was moved by his gesture; she couldn’t resist and decided to attend the church wedding. She no more had the perfume bottle but did preserve that bracelet, may be a few more stones had come off it.

She wore that bracelet and went to the church and tried to sit in the last row. But the volunteers identified her, may be that they had been specifically instructed to so. They ushered her right to the front row and right in the front row there stood a beautifully decorated chair with a placard written at the top of the seat ‘MOTHER’.  Dr. Theodore personally asked Mrs. Thompson to sit in that chair and whispered in her ears, “You are closest to my mother that I have experienced. Whatever I am today is because of you, mam.”

 The wedding happened and after the wedding he introduced Mrs. Thompson to his newly wedded wife in this manner: Without Mrs. Thompson I wouldn’t have been what and where I am today. Tears rolled down his eyes as he said this. They were tears of gratitude. Mrs. Thompson replied, “And Without Teddy I would never have realised that a teacher should first be a mother to her student and then and only then be his teacher.”

Now friends, there could be a Teddy sitting somewhere in your class. When you go back to your class room on Monday morning remember that there is this Teddy in your class who needs your love and you could be that Mrs. Thompson. Don’t go back to the institute as a teacher but go back as a parent, a mother, who can also be a teacher. You could be that mother first and then a teacher, and thus be the turning point in the life of our children.

Vinay Trilokekar

[Some time back (September, 2014), the Managing Trustee of the NGO (we look after the education holistic development and health care of underprivileged children, where I am a consultant, was discussing with me how some of our teachers were giving up on children, labelling them with tags like ‘good for nothing’ , ‘dud’ ,’duffer’, etc. I was pondering on what she had said. Then I remembered this story which my son's school principal (St. Sebastian High School), Rev. Father Lurdino Fernandes had once told me (way back in 80s). I emailed her the above story ‘Teach with motherly love’ and responded in this manner, she asked me to put it as a sort of address to teachers and I actually did it , (as a letter addressed to our teachers)

Dear Vinay,

Sorry that I couldn't read your mail earlier.  I'm very touched by the story that you have sent for the teachers.  I shall certainly pass it on to them by personally talking to them individually, especially to those teachers who need to soften down a bit and be more of friends and mothers rather than strict teachers whom the children would be scared of.

Thanks once again.

Regards,

Khurshid]