How I miss you teacher!
How I miss you teacher! You knew how to inspire, you knew how to listen. After you, I felt on my own, a little lost, until I realised the most precious thing you had taught me was to think. That, and the art of reading.
What made you great? The way we listened, the way you spoke to us, and, in turn, listened. The way you suggested, you read what we had written, you patiently criticised, in a way we felt great ourselves, talented, full of promises. How we felt compelled to improve, our writing, our reading, how we read.
You opened doors
You knew how to suggest, and then never mentioned it again, leaving it up to us, our imagination, our maturing… You opened doors, knew everything about us, without ever spying or preying on us. You were a great reader yourself, your comments on what we wrote were sharp, objective, uncompromising: you stimulated us not to accept mediocrity.
You prepared us for adulthood, without insistence, knowing some of us needed time, patience. We should not burn the candle at both hands, I thought at the time.
you never prescribed
Yet you did more than open doors, you gave us the key to the big portals: dreams, books, photography, mountains, skies, clouds, the Universe. You were a guide, discreet, and attentive, you never prescribed, we were in awe with you. You had charm, I wanted to imitate you, your handwriting, the minuscule calligraphy, the style. For you had style, an immense culture, my ambition was to surprise you, but that was extremely difficult: you had been there, even when you did not speak about it, we knew, I knew.
Yes, we shall miss you, forever. You were not much older than us.
Leave a Reply