Too Busy for a Friend...

[SuiteDisney]

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 most 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 Viet Nam
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
notebook paper 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 Vicki, 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," Vicki 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.

So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are
special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.

 

[CEDmom]

***********,

I remember seeing this in a magazine several years ago and it really touched me. Thanks for posting it here. Every once in a while we all need a reminder to take a moment and appreciate all that is precious to us.

 

[browneyes]

Is that another Chicken Soup story Sis?

 

[dandave]

Usually you give me a much needed laugh SD, this time you made me teary-eyed.
That was lovely. Thanks for posting it.

 

[SuiteDisney]

It might be a Chicken Soup story, but I'm not sure. My mother just sent it to me.

 

[kejoda]

This is really beautiful Laura. Tell your family that they are very lucky to have you.

 

[Planogirl]

Wouldn't it be nice if everyone followed this advice? Thanks for the reminder.

 

[phamton]

The story is true but the entire story is even better:

http://www.snopes.com/glurge/allgood.htm
All the Good Things


Claim: A teacher's ad hoc class assignment is kept and treasured by her students.

Status: True.

Example: [Collected on the Internet, 1998]


He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minnesota. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. [He was] very neat in appearance but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischieviousness delightful.

Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving: "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice teacher's mistake. I looked at him and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"

It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."

At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.

One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I 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 the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much!" No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I 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 again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simply said, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."

Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend." To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark.

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me. The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.

I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "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 notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I 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."

Mark's classmates started to gather around us. 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 this in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, 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," Vicki said, without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

By: Sister Helen P. Mrosla

The purpose of this letter, is to encourage everyone to compliment the people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance of showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things could mean the most to another. I am asking you to please send this letter around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your love and caring by complimenting and being open with communication. 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. So please, I beg of you, to tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.

I leave these messages with you and ask you to continue to spread the message to everyone you know.

Origins: This inspirational tale of the "teacher who made a difference" (and its unnecessary explanatory coda) can be found on hundreds of web sites all over the Internet and has been widely forwarded as a "good luck" chain letter via e-mail. And why not? It epitomizes principles we fervently wish to believe: that a dedicated educator (and religion) can make a positive, lasting difference in one's life; and that the world would be a better place if we found it in our hearts to reach out to each other. (Just in case we missed the point, the didactic end paragraph states it explicitly.)

"All the Good Things" first appeared in Proteus, A Journal of Ideas in 1991; and from there went to Reader's Digest, on whose pages it appeared the same year (1991). The piece was reprinted in the original Chicken Soup for the Soul book (1993), and offered yet again in Stories for the Heart (1996).

Of course, we're constantly asked, "Is this true?" To which we reply, "Does it make a difference?" Like Parson Weems' tale of George Washington and the cherry tree, "All the Good Things" is a story that asks us to consider its message, not its literal truthfulness. But since you want to know, the answer is yes. We contacted St. Mary's school in Morris, Minnesota, and they verified that the story is indeed a true one. There was a Mark Eklund, there is a Sister Mrosla, and there was such a list.

How does the author feel about this story becoming wildly popular on the Internet? According to an interview with Associated Press, though Sister Mrosla is happy people are reading the story, she's unhappy it has become a chain letter promising good luck to recipients who pass it on. "It cheapens it somehow."

The URL for this page is http://www.snopes.com/glurge/allgood.htm

 

[nativetxn]

I've read this before but it was certainly worth reading again.

Such a sweet story with a great moral, it makes me teary.

 

[shep]

Very nice to read this again..
Thanks for sharing...

 

[glo]

It is a beautiful story...with a very important meaning. Treasure those you love and tell them often that they are important and mean something, becuase someday...you won't have them anymore.

People have no clue how they affect others. Sometimes an act of kindness means the world to someone. Sometimes people are suffering inside and a kind word is all that is holding them together. Sometimes the words and feelings never come...

Tell those you love exactly how you feel....for you won't always have them.