for Mrs. B.
As each of my children has gone to kindergarten, I have had occasion to think of my own experience at that age. How I was proud to walk across the street to the elementary school with my backpack and sunshine-yellow nap mat. How I ate square pizza in the cafeteria. How my generous mother would often volunteer in my class and bring treats with her. And most of all, I remember my teacher.
I remember her perfect handwriting on the chalkboard and the lined paper that we used to practice our letters. I remember story time — not the stories themselves, but her calm reading voice.
Kindergartners, as I now know from experience, are messy and loud. These little human herds are like a scurry of chattering squirrels or a gaggle of honking geese. Especially in groups, they can test one’s patience, if not sanity. Their growing bodies are remarkable resilient, yet an adult, especially one in authority, can say just one hurtful word that carves deeply into them. What an awesome, fearsome responsibility.
Like my own children, I was one of the lucky ones who found consistent support and unfailing kindness in my teacher. I remember how she would crouch next to my desk at eye level. This left an impression so deep and lasting that it immediately came back to me just the other day.
My kindergarten teacher contacted me after reading one of these little essays here at Chapelboro. Close to 40 years later, she remembered me and also my mother, including how Mom gifted her with a homemade Moravian sugar cake at Easter. Though my former teacher moved away after my kindergarten year, she has bought that treat every year in remembrance of Mom’s kindness to her.
I have watched my children enter their classrooms, welcomed by their teachers, and for a moment, I am them, their teachers are her, and time is both now and then.
Also, Moravian sugar cake is delicious — you really should enjoy one today.
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of “Little Big Moments,” a collection of mini-essays about parenting, and “Tigers, Mice & Strawberries: Poems.” Both titles are available most anywhere books are sold online. Taylor-Troutman lives in Chapel Hill where he serves as pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church and occasionally stumbles upon the wondrous while in search of his next cup of coffee.
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