She
walks into the classroom
As
she has done many times before.
Hoping
for a good day,
She
begins.
Speaking
of verbs, Shakespeare, and Cummings,
She
seems to enjoy what she does.
With
each red mark she makes,
She
wonders if it was her fault.
Answering
our questions,
Guiding
us through their education,
She
tries her best
And
prays she is making us see.
With
each perfect paper
And
each smiling face,
She
is sure of the life she has chosen;
She
is the teacher.
This poem was written in 1994 for my high school English teacher, Linda Chaney. She was a teacher who inspired and encouraged me.
This week is Teacher Appreciation Week. I encourage you to find a teacher and do something nice for that person. A teacher's work doesn't stop when the bell rings each afternoon. We carry our children home in our hearts long after the end of the day.
