Miss Alice

This is a picture of me and my Sunday School class, circa 1981.  Over on the side, way to the left edge of the picture, is the central focus of my post.  Miss Alice.

For some reason, this week, my kindergarten teacher (and Sunday School teacher), Miss Alice, has been on my mind.  On the way to work, one morning i found myself in tears, thinking about what it must be like to have watched so many tiny little people, who didn't know a "b" from a "z" when she met them, grow up into adults (who can read), and have children of their own, and become so many different ... well, grown-ups.  There were so many kids who weren't her own, but in whom she invested so much of her time and energy, and i have no doubt, prayers.

Miss Alice was not only my teacher. She was also a member of my church, and her husband, my dad's friend.  So, over the years, we've not entirely lost touch.  Recently, Miss Alice, to my delight, became my Facebook friend, and started, at least sometimes, reading my blog.

This development not only makes me think seriously about double-checking my grammar when i write, but it also makes this a good time in my timeline to write a very heartfelt, though much less than adequate, thank you to Miss Alice, for being such a good teacher, a kind friend, a person who invested in my life.  I don't think that i can come even close to grasping how much a great teacher like her invests emotionally (and probably financially) in the lives of her students.

I have quite a few friends and several cousins, who are school teachers.  I have a couple who teach kindergarten.  When i read their stories, i think of Miss Alice.  And i also think about their students,who will remember their teachers for their whole lives.  And i think about the amazing contribution a teacher makes in a student's life.

Then this week, the horrible news we all heard about the incident in Connecticut and the heroes that were revealed through that tragedy, made me think even more.

And while i can't really find decent words to say what i'm trying to convey, i'm hoping that you and Miss Alice and my cousins and friends who are school teachers, can read what i'm not saying.  And understand the big, heartfelt, tearful, thank you that i'm attempting to offer.

Thank you, very, very, very, very much.