But, I couldn't say that to a teacher, could I?


I walk into his room,

notes from class unerased on the white board,

and Mr. Frits still sitting at his desk.

I hesistate for a second...standing in the doorway,

But then he lifts his head and notices me,

a smile wrinkles across his face as he asks what I need.

A second of silence passes as I gather my thoughts.


But all that comes out is:

     "Thank You"

Another second passes as Mr. Frits stumbles upon the sudden sincerity.

I take a step closer,

     "I said, Thank You"

His face still baffled, I take another step,

     "Thank You for teaching us.

     For prepring us for the future,



     helping us to solve our problems

     and giving us the tools to succeed"

He leans back, letting the words sink into his heart,

     "Well, your welcome. But it is only my job--"

I interupt before he continues,

     "I know that it. I know it's you job.

     But for a teacher, you do more than teach.

     We learn more than simple English terms from you,

     your lectures linger much longer than the class period,

     and your spouting wisdom will stay with us for the rest of our lives."

Tears form in the corners of his eyes.

     "So I just wanted to come in and say..."


     "What is it that you need?"

I snapped out of my vision as I stood in the doorway.

I wanted to say all that I had thought, I needed to say all that I thought.

But, I couldn't say that to a teacher, could I?

     "Nothing..." I replied as I walked out of the doorway.

     ...but Thank You. 




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