Moon in the morning

There was a moon in the morning - a sight I rarely see, but one that always fills me with a mixture of awe and assurance. So often, we forget that something is there because we do not see it.
So it is with the indelible mark a teacher leaves on our hearts.

Today, I saw my teachers again.
Mrs Seah, I saw as she turned to smile at a colleague. Miss Sam, as she was walking to a sharing session on teaching mathematics.
In that instant gasp of surprise and joy, I am turned once again into that awkward teen who was loved by her teachers nonetheless. Even if she was the quiet one in class. And even if she couldn't do Integration. Or differentiation. Or draw a nice graph.

They remember my name and the names of my friends, the way we were in school; and they think of us often, wondering how we are right now.


In the smiles and the hugs and the catching up, there is so much I want to say, but can't.

"Why did you become a teacher?"
"Oh, because I think it's meaningful."

Overwhelmed by the blinding light of self-confidence, and in the heat of the day, we forget the pull of a quiet teacher's wise words, warm hugs, and patient counsel on the ebb and flow of our preoccupations and plans.
We go on to take to the sky, doing things we never thought we would achieve, breaking records, living out dreams.
But there is an invisible bond, tethering us to them, keeping us grounded even as we soar.

"Why did you become a teacher?"
It was because of you.