Best Love Story
All The Good Things Part 1
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Things Part 1 | 2
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He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint
Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were
dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very
neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude
that made even his occasional mischievousness 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!"
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