A treasure map of memories, translated…
As he walked to my seat, he’d stopped, all of a sudden—on my drawing papers, there were only black and light gray, connecting the dots………
My neighbor, Mr. Jiang teaches at an elementary school, as each semester ends, he’d always brought home some pens, crayons, or coloring markers, to give to the neighbors. All of these were, from his students, but, by the end of the semester, nobody came to the lost-and-found to claim them, and no student wanted them, the teachers felt that these pens, markers, and crayons are still usable, that it’d be a shame, to just throw them all away, so, they’d bring them home, and give them to the neighbors.
Every time I’d gotten the pens, I’d feel ecstatic, although most of them were used, but, they’d all looked great, and can still write, just as if they were brand new. And, because I’d often gotten these pens that had no owners to use, and so, every time as I’d held them to write, I couldn’t help but wondered, are the kids now too extravagant? They may never have imagined, that someone had just two small pieces of crayons, and still used them sparingly.
The Monotonous Artwork, with the Childhood Years, Colored in
I remember, that it was, the year I’d entered into the third grade, our homeroom teacher was a man, tall, slim, with dark complexion, just fresh out of the teaching university, a fast walker, but always had a smile on his face. The homeroom instructors from before are responsible for subjects including Math, Chinese, Music and Physical Education, and so, from the self-study period before the school started, to the end of school, he’d stayed inside the classroom.
He was really focused in teaching us, hoped, that our grades, with his hard work in teaching, can improve, and so, other than the lessons, in order to know how much we’d learned that day, he’d taken the ten minutes before the bell rings, passed out these small pieces of papers, and tested us on a couple of arithmetic problems, or sentence structures. As he’d picked up the quizzes, he’d taken the few minutes between the classes to grade them, and would always manage to hand the slips of paper back to us, during the next period, and go over every single problem we’d gotten wrong, made sure that everybody understood, then, he’d taken us into his next lesson.
But, I’d not realized how much heart he’d put into teaching until art class once. That day, he’d handed every student with the perforated marking, with a hat, and a flower next to it on the pictures, he’d had us color them. As the students were coloring, the instructor did as he’d always done, walked around. As he’d walked next to me, he’d stopped—on my art paper, I’d only used the colors of black and light gray, just connected the dots is all. He’d lowered his head, told me, “on the hat, or the flowers, you can use different colors, it’d look prettier.”
He’d found, that I’d not done anything differently after he’d spoken, so, he’d told me again.
This time, I’d said, in a timid voice, “I only have these two halves of the crayons, I can’t use it all up, I’d needed to save them for my younger brother’s art classes too.”
My teacher looked at the two segments of crayons on my desk, saw how I was about to cry, he’d started, “With just two small segments of the crayons, you can draw the outlines of the hat, that’s, amazing!”, then continued, “Remember! You must see what you have, not what you don’t, you’d be happier that way.”
Back then, I’d not understood him, but, I’d felt that he wasn’t scolding me, that instead, he’d consoled me, and encouraged me.
From the Two Segments of Crayons, I Was Able to See All that I Have
After that art class, on one of the quarterly exams, I’d gotten a good grade, and received a certificate of achievement from him, and, there was, also, another, HUGE surprise—he’d bought a brand new box of crayons as a present! That box of crayons, made my younger brother and I stopped worrying about not having enough crayons to draw with.
Then, after the semester, my teacher was enlisted, and I’d not heard about him again.
not my photo…
As I’m older, I’d not gotten the chances to use crayons anymore, but every time I’d wrapped my fingers around a pen to write, I’d recalled how embarrassed I was, not having something to write with, as well as when my teacher, as he’d shown his cares and concern, he’d still kept in mind, that I have pride too. Especially his words, I’d taken them as a sort of a revelation to me, allowed it to accompany me. And now, whenever I’d bumped into moments of displeasures, I’d think of my teacher, thought about his words, and, changed my awful feelings into gratitude, and felt blessed with everything I already have.
So, this, is how this young girl’s teacher’s words had stayed with her, and it’s not just that, it’s also, his kindness toward her, and this experience from her younger years became a guiding kind of experience for her that she carries through her life.