Gift

Nov 4 What was the nicest gift that you received from student/parent/colleague?

I don't do well with superlatives. "Nicest"? "Best"? I could no more choose the "nicest" gift than I could choose my favorite child. The one in front of me is always the best. 

But I did receive a special surprise last week, a playbill from ISU's fall production of "Spring Awakening," sent to me by the mother of the play's director, Stacy Hansen, drama director at Valley High School--and my former student. I knew it was an honor for Stacy to have been invited by her alma mater to serve as a guest director, and I was delighted her mother had thought to send me the programme. 

I met Stacy when she was thirteen; I was twenty-three, a first-year teacher, and fueled by far more energy than expertise. Ten years later, during Stacy's own first year of teaching, she called me from a speech contest, crying. She was in a strange city, responsible for a dozen high-school students, and someone had stolen her purse. I was a little flummoxed as to why was she calling me instead of her own mother, but as I helped her think through her options, I realized why she'd called me. She was trying to hold it together as a teacher--so she'd turned to her teacher.  

Over the years I've delighted in watching Stacy's trajectory of success. She faced down the Westboro Baptists haters when Valley produced "The Laramie Project" in 2006. She consistently helps her students reach All-State levels in speech competitions.  During National Teacher Appreciation week one year I received a note from students in the Valley drama department, telling me that although they didn't know me personally, they were being "taught" by me through Ms. Hansen. It was a touch-the-future teacher gift, one I won't forget. 

Stacy's not on Facebook, but her husband occasionally posts pictures of their children: son Lincoln and daughter Scout, named for you-know-who in the book we read during Stacy's ninth-grade year. She sends her children's beautiful handmade (recycled!) holiday cards each year, sometimes late, always appreciated.

As I flipped through the playbill her mother sent, I found the the director's notes, eager to read Stacy's commentary on the production. What I found there was this lovely gift, the nibble of a Madeleine, taking me back to 1983: 

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