Card prompted memories from the past

I was looking through some stuff the other day and found an old Christmas card. It was signed, “Votre ancienne maitresse, Marie.”

Suddenly I was a young teenager again. Once a week I would walk over to Marie’s big white house after school. We would go over whatever French homework I had. If there was no homework we would practice past or future lessons.

Marie lived with her mom. Mom was a tiny woman and very old. If Marie would offer me a piece of candy,  Mom would ask for a piece. Marie would tell her that she didn’t like that kind. Mom would insist. When Mom would finally win, she would take a piece and put it in her mouth. Seconds later she would spit it out because she didn’t like it. Marie would shake her head and silently say to herself, "I told you so.”

Sometimes she would offer me a Coke. This came complete with a glass of ice for me to pour the soda into. 

I rarely had pop at home. It was considered to be a waste of money. The only time we had pop was when my Uncle Don and Aunt Kitty would visit and  they would bring a bottle of sugary liquid for each of us. So being offered a Coke was a real treat.

Marie collected elephants. She had a display case with tiny and not so tiny elephant figurines from all over the world. To this day, I think of her every time I see an elephant of any size.

After all that, the things I learned from Marie and my high school French teacher have seldom been put to use. The words and phrases I tried so hard to learn have been pushed into the dusty back storage areas of my brain.

Nevertheless, I firmly believe that those pleasant afternoons that I spent with two old ladies were some of the best afternoons of my life. It doesn’t matter that they fussed over candy. It doesn’t matter that the older of the two women probably had the beginnings of dementia.

So why do I remember Marie after all these years? I think it was because she was kind. Here were two little old ladies who wanted to make a difference in the world. They chose to do that one young person at a time by offering what they could.

You may say that the older lady didn’t do anything. You would be wrong. Maybe she didn’t directly help me with my homework but she taught me that all older ladies weren’t as unhappy as my grandmother was. Marie and her mother showed me that people could disagree without raised voices or pushing and shoving. 

If the weather was nice I would walk home after the session was over. If it was bad out I would call and someone would come and get me. It was about a mile or so from Marie’s house to home. I cherished the chance to be alone. 

I was so lucky to have Marie and her mom in my life. I think that teachers, be they in school or not, can never know just how much of a difference they make.