The office calls my room.
"Mrs. Jacobs, can you come to the office for a minute?"
When I get there, I see a man with a priest's collar standing there.
"She doesn't recognize me" he says to the secretaries.
Then I see his profile and know.
He's my 11th grade English teacher!
I haven't seen him for 45 years.
He gives me a hug and 6 roses
and an apology.
When I was in his class he marked an answer wrong on a test. I felt it was right and spoke to him about it but he refused to change my grade.
I don't remember this.
But he does and says it's bothered him all these years.
He was a first-year teacher and didn't know what he was doing.
I knew what he was doing; he was inspiring me with his dynamic style. I loved his class and how he made everything come to life.
And I knew that's the kind of teacher I wanted to be.
Twenty years ago he had throat cancer and lost his voice so had to quit teaching. He decided to become a minister but the cancer left him with just a whisper for a voice so he can't preach. Instead he collects donations to help people with oil and other necessities.
He continues to be an inspiration!