You Never Know

My husband used to be a teacher.

Actually, I should rephrase that: My husband is a teacher, and he used to get paid to teach full time.

Six years ago (or was it 7?), he left the classroom for the garden, and began designing native plant gardens for a living.  He's good at it.  He created a virtual paradise for us here, and when other people started asking him for help in their own gardens, he -- we -- took the leap and he changed careers.  He can visualize and then create really beautiful outdoor spaces.

But he's a teacher at heart.

Flash forward six years.  (Or maybe 7?)  The other night, he stopped into a local liquor store to get me, his grateful and lucky wife, some Stone IPA.  There, behind the counter, was a former student.

"Mr. A!  Whoa--that is so wierd!  I was just talking about you an hour ago!"

This was a kid Mr. A remembers well, and was delighted to see.  But an hour ago?  So Mr. A asked him why on earth he was thinking about his high school English teacher one hour ago.  And the kid (young adult) said:

"Because I was writing a poem."

Could there be more golden words to an English teacher?

Turns out, this kid (young adult) works part time at the liquor store, part time at a local hardware store, both of which help him write and play music.  And with the good fortune or Rick walking into his liquor store (the good fortune of Rick having a thirsty wife), he had a chance to do something not many of us ever have a chance to do: tell a teacher that he or she made a difference.  He had a chance to tell his teacher that he has never forgotten the lessons he learned in Rick's class, that Rick was the kind of teacher that a student takes with him everywhere he goes in his life.

He was writing a poem.  And that reminded him of his high school English teacher.

You never know what impact you have on the people around you.  Unless they tell you.

Go tell someone what they mean to you.  It will make their day.  I know, because over the top of my Stone IPA bottle, I could see the light in my husband's eyes as he told me all about this chance, and most fortuitous, meeting.

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