Blast from the Past

Last week, I was at a local store. A nice young man checked us out, and surprised me by asking my name. . . I replied, "Tonnye" -- then he said, "Are you Mrs. Fletcher??" I said (hesitantly, uncertain why he was asking, and in this way. . . .), "Yes. . . ." He smiled and shook his head, and said, "I had you in third grade. . . ." Sure enough, as I glanced at his name tag "Aaron _______", and I said, "Oh, my word, Aaron -- I never would have recognized you! Goodness, but you have grown-up since third grade. . . " and, indeed, he has -- he is a very nice, very handsome young man. He's obviously doing very well -- is a senior this year, graduation looming in his future. When I asked if he was excited, he said, "Yes, and nervous". I also asked about his post-graduation plans. He hopes to major in Criminal justice and graphic design. Not surprising. He was one of the nicest young men I've ever had the pleasure to teach. How nice it was to see him, and know he's doing well, and that he remembers me -- and let me know. Hope springs eternal that there are children out there who are what they are and who they are in part because of who I am and what I do.

It is shocking -- I found myself teary-eyed. . . .why, I'm not sure. All of my children from my first 2 years' teaching will be graduating this year. I was mentally aware of this fact, but to see one of them " all grown up" when I haven't seen him for years was surprising. I'm not sure how this works that they continually grow older, and I don't. . . .:~) I guess it's just the beginning. It was my first foray into this arena. I wish they would all be this positive. . . .I cringe thinking about seeing their names in the paper because they are in jail, or dead. . .and yet, I know it is probably inevitable. . . . I'm at least glad this first one was positive.

Blessings to you, Aaron. Good luck in your senior year and graduation and college and life. I hope third grade was a good year for you.