"Compound Interest" From My Teaching Career

I must admit that I really don't miss teaching all that much. I don't feel an "emptiness" in my days or weeks. I don't miss the difficult traveling, the stress of wondering how or when a ride would come. I don't miss the lesson planning or trying to control the unruly teenage boys or dealing with the administration. My last year of teaching had very few "successful" and inspiring lessons. I guess it was time to go.

But I do miss the good times, when I had students who wanted to succeed and appreciated what I did for them. I miss the days when the parents were grateful and told me that "for the first time" their son enjoyed or felt he was learning something in English.

Recently, a couple of things happened to remind me of those "good times."

A neighbors' son was Bar Mitzvah a couple of weeks ago, and they invited everyone to an "Oneg Shabbat," a Friday night after the meal reception. I had taught the neighbor's nephew a few years ago. Sitting at the table, I tried to find him in the crowd. He then came over to talk to me; it was so nice seeing how nicely he has grown up. Then his mother came over and told me that they had been looking forward to seeing me and how much they had liked me.

Then yesterday, after leaving the Jerusalem Conference, I was waiting for the bus to Ofra, to babysit, at the "white statue" at the Ramat Eshkol/French Hill Junction. Suddenly, someone a bit familiar aproached. I realized that he had been a student of mine, but in those days he didn't have a full black beard. We talked a bit, and he asked me if there was a bus to Ofra soon. I said "Yes," but I didn't tell him that the driver was proabably going to be an old friend from high school. There's always a chance of schedule changes.

I got on first, and M, the driver asked:

"Isn't A getting on?"

When A got on they had a very pleasant reunion. If I hadn't taught in that high school, I wouldn't have enven known M.

It's nice to know the younger generation, those younger than my own sons. Now I'll just be "that old lady" and not "HaMorah," "the Honored Teacher."