Yes, i love to be a teacher -
and to "touch a life" or two...
for, after a lifetime of being a teacher,
i've touched many lives, as they have touched mine...
Though some times i just listened -
not knowing what to say...
but many a time i've reasoned,
and consoled a weeping heart, or two...
For i feel: no little angel that comes my way
should be left to go hungry, or be angry,
feel sad or sorry; or be made to worry -
if i can help it; if not, 'over my dead body'!
Today i learned that a little angel
had to help his mother
in her effort to put rice on the table:
twenty-five kilos of beans and chilli
is a lot to pack, with his brother,
and to wash up the place and containers -
after a tiring day at school,
homework and housework to do, packaging, too...
and on a Sunday, the house to mop,
and the cargo car to wash - he and his brother!
my heart goes out to him (and his little partner)
at such a tender age, such responsibilities to shoulder...
The second little angel talked of his sick grandmother:
warded, bedridden, but still as cheerful as ever!
her only complaint: hospital food tasted 'like paper' -
and my little angel is worried for his poor grandmother...
his little heart is sad, for a second reason:
kicked out of the librarian's post that he loved -
all because they have one too many,
and don't need another...!
i watched him as he put the books lovingly back
on their shelves - he knows and loves his task,
and loves to read, and loves all the books,
and is so eager to work - so why rob him of his pleasure?
his third grievance: he hates Fridays!
the Art lesson causes fear and embarassment:
he couldn't draw and neither could he colour!
so i told him of my equal fear and embarassment,
and of my Art teacher, who held my hand,
and showed me how to 'feel' the strokes,
and to love to experiment with each colour...
and told him to smile more: he's too serious at 14 -
he'll soon look like 41 - with so much to worry!
They remind me of 'Si Tompel', who had always commented:
(on tiring day-ends, when the class is noisy and lazy)
Teacher, why do you look so sad? Smile... smile...
Well, which teacher wouldn't? So i smiled...;
that reminds me of another, a 'fallen' angel
who had such sad eyes, and seldom smiled...:
he had had a bad motorbike accident -
lost his leg, and 'killed' his single mother
so he and his siblings are now orphans -
and i was his speechless form teacher...
didn't know how to console, or to counsel
till he said,"I wish to talk about the accident..."
and i was grading him for his oral test -
while he lifted the burden off his chest...
all i did was to listen, and nod in encouragement,
while he purged his young heart of all the guilty feelings...
I may not have touched their life deep enough -
but they certainly have touched mine...
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Our career may end one day but our vocation will never. You have a soft spot for the underprivileged. Always giving and caring for the children and identify with their sorrows and joy, knowing their heart beats. Though you have given part of your time but most importantly you have shown your love towards them. This is a gift from God. Not many can be seen in teaching profession the joy of teaching and sacrificial love for the children. Though you may not touch their life, a good deed will be remembered in times of need and will be engraved in their heart with gold. Indeed they have touched yours.
ReplyDeleteWhen i graduated from the (Malaysian) Technical Teachers Training College, Cheras, in 1975, my 'Form Teacher' told my friends who would be good teachers (and i'm one of them)... So, if i don't live up to the mark, i feel i've not only let him and the college down, but also Mr Foo, Miss Padmaja, Cikgu Md Zin Sham, Mr Wong Fook Seng and all my teachers down... i'm doing this in return for what they had done for me in TBSS way back in 1966-1970... when i, too, was a troubled teenager, with a lot on my mind... It's a way of showing my gratitude and to say, "I do remember, and i do care... THANK YOU for taking the trouble to help a confused, miserable child at war with her feelings, in a world she could not fathom... there were even times i wished i were dead, or just an observer (like God) and just sit back - watch others live, share in their joys or sorrow, without having to go through life myself (at the young age of 9/10 i was already 'a thinker' - thinking and fearing, always hoping and longing for things to happen, but not to me!"Then in 1964 (Dec 1963 actually) we left Kemaman and moved to Kuala Trengganu, and i was that new girl in Std 5B and met my little Napoleon - 'pompous', 'show-off' class monitor, and Jit Poh, Chwee Liang, Chew Jee, Tiong Chiok, Teng Poh... under our cheongsam clad (that white cheongsam with the floral top was one of my favourite favourites) Mrs Low...
ReplyDeleteYou have withstand the refinery’s fire and came out pure as gold to be a “good teacher”. As from NOW do remember: “GREATEST FREEDOM is having Nothing to Proof” especially at Our Golden Age”. Go after your dreams so that you may accomplish them.
ReplyDeleteTHANK YOU for the comforting and wonderful remarks: “my little Napoleon”.
It fits perfectly well of the person and in stature and character and you have nailed on to his head. We will always remember history where the battle of Waterloo was fought. Remember, the 2nd in command was the tallest amongst the girls not to discard in her beauty and grace.
My idol happens to be Joan of Arc. the first time i read about her in our history book -of how bravely she fought and then to be accused of being a witch, and burnt at the stake...! I wasn't born then to champion her rights and to fight for justice, to go against the whole world and condemn them forever for allowing such a blasphemous thing to happen! It really made my young teenage blood boil and my heart went out to her, my heroine...
ReplyDeleteAnd i had a soft spot for our little Napoleon not only 'coz he was brave, but also 'coz of the picture of him - without an arm...? It reminded me of The Little Tin Soldier in my fairy tale, who admired the pretty princess - he had only one leg...
And that also make me recall the soldier who came back from The Vietnam War and called his parents to say that he was bringing 'a friend' who was blind, and had lost his arms and legs home..., and the parents told him the friend would be too much of a burden - DON'T bring him home! and the next day abody was discovered, floating in the river: it was blind, and had lost both arms and leg...
And that's the stark reality of life! How sad...
Ooops - correction: the one who lost his arm was the English Admiral Nelson, who fought Napoleon (and won). So, Napolean remains the ambitious French 'conqueror'...
ReplyDelete... and that sad Vietnam casualty story: the parents saw that the body was that of their son who had been badly wounded in the war, and they had turned him away out of selfishness and self-centeredness...
How very, very sad...