I went to Kroger tonight to get a few things. I noticed a little elderly lady pushing a cart in front of me. She was so tiny, her face barely showing over the handle. Her small legs were twisted unnaturally, and her back & shoulders bent into a permanent slump. She tried to get a can on the bottom shelf, so I hurried to see if I could help. She couldnt reach a can of pumpkin, so I crawled down to get it for her. As I reached up to hand her the can, I saw her aging body and saw familiar eyes. I saw eyes I hadnt seen in 27 years. I asked her name, and she smiled with pride. This was my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. McIntosh. I have very few memories from elementary school, but this lady i remembered. I was picked on as a child. I had short hair and looked like a boy. I was teased because my last name was Farmer. The memory I have is of a boy, who started the morning chanting Dirt Farmer. After a few minutes, Id had enough. I tore into him. We fought. When Mrs. McIntosh came in the room she said to the boy Id rather be a dirt farmer than a city boy any day that was the first time that I remember someone standing up for me and being on my side. Ill never forget it. I told her this story and i nearly cried when I shared it. Her eyes brightened and she smiled. She was beautiful. I think of our elderly population, how they are often put on the back burner. .. how easily we forget that they helped shape us into who we are. How easy for us to forget that just a few years ago they were just like us, healthy and happy with our lives before us. Im humbled today. Im also honored to see her again. And teachers... if no one has told you today, let me be the first to say that you are making a difference.
Posted on: Mon, 13 Oct 2014 03:54:51 +0000
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