One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of
the other students in the room on two sheets of paper,
leaving a space between each name.
Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they
could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish their
assignment and, as the students left the room, each one
handed in the papers.
That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each
student on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what
everyone else had said about that individual.
On Monday, she gave each student his or her list. Before
long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" she heard
whispered. "I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!"
and, "I didn't know others liked me so much." were some of
the comments.
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She
never knew if they discussed them after class or with their
parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished
its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one
another.
That group of students moved on. Several years later, one
of the students was killed in Vietnam and his teacher
attended the funeral of that special student.
She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin
before. He looked so handsome, so mature.
The church was packed with his friends. One by one, those
who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher
was the last one to bless the coffin. As she stood there,
one of the soldiers, who acted as pallbearer, came up to
her.
"Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked.
She nodded: "Yes."
Then he said: "Mark talked about you a lot."
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went
together to a luncheon. Mark's mother and father were there,
obviously waiting to speak with his teacher.
"We want to show you something," his father said, taking
a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he
was killed. We thought you might recognize it."
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn
pieces of notepaper that had obviously been taped, folded
and refolded many times.
The teacher knew, without looking, that the papers were
the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of
Mark's classmates had said about him.
"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said.
"As you can see, Mark treasured it."
All of Mark's former classmates started to gather around.
Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my
list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home."
Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our
wedding album."
"I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary."
Then Vickie, another classmate, reached into her
pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and
frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all
times," Vickie said, and without batting an eyelash, she
continued: "I think we all saved our lists."
That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She
cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see
him again.
The density of people in society is so thick that we forget
that life will end one day. And we don't know when that one
day will be.
