a nice story

[Guest guest]

> (written by: Sister Helen P. Mrosla)

>

> He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in

> Morris, Minnesota. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund

> was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that

> happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness

> delightful. Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again

> that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so

> much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for

> misbehaving - "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!"

>

> I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became

> accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

>

> One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often,

> and then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at Mark and said, "If

> you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!" it wasn't ten

> seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't

> asked any of the students to help me watch Mark,but since I had stated the

> punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

>

> I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my

> desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking

> tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two

> pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned

> to the front of the room.

>

> As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did

> it!! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's

> desk, removed the tape, and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were,

> "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."

>

> At the end of the year, I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years

> flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again.

>

> He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen

> carefully to my instruction in the "new math," he did not talk as much in

> ninth grade as he had in third. One Friday, things just didn't feel

> right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the

> students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with on

> another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I

> asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two

> sheets of paper,leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to

> think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates

> and write it down. It took the remainder of the class period to finish

> their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me

> the papers. Charlie smiled.

>

> Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."

>

> That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet

> of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual.

> On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire

> class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant

> anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much." No one ever

> mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed

> them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise

> had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and

> one another again.

>

> That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned

> from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home,

> Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my

> experiences in general. There was a lull in the conversation. Mother gave

> Dad a side-ways glance and simply says, "Dad?" My father cleared his

> throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called

> last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in

> years. I wonder how Mark is." Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in

> Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it

> if you could attend."

>

> To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me

> about Mark.

>

> I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so

> handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark I would

> give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.

>

> The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The

> Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the

> funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the

> usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved

> Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water. I

> was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the

> soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math

> teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark

> talked about you a lot," he said.

>

> After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farm

> house for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting

> for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet

> out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We

> thought you might recognize it."

>

> Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook

> paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I

> knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed

> all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank

> you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark

> treasured it."

>

> Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather

> sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my

> desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our

> wedding album."

>

> "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary."

>

> Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her

> wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this

> with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we

> all saved our lists."

>

> That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all

> his friends who would never see him again.

>

> THE END

>

>

> The purpose of this letter is to encourage everyone to compliment the

> people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance of

> showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things, could

> mean the most to another. I am asking you, to please send this letter

> around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your love and

> caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The density of

> people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day.

> And we don't know when that one day will be. So please, I beg of you, to

> tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and

> important. Tell them, before it is too late.

>

> Within 1 hour you must send it to other people. Within five days you will

> have a miraculous occurrence in your relationships. You may find new love

> or have an old love rekindled.

>

> If you do not send it, you will have, once again passed up the opportunity

> to do something loving and beautiful and continue the trend that gives you

> problems in your relationships.

>

> If you've received this it is because someone cares for you and it means

> there is probably at least someone for whom you care. If you're too busy

> to take the few minutes that it would take right now to forward this to

> ten people, would it be the first time you didn't do that little thing

> that would make a difference in your relationships?

>

> The more people that you send this to, the better luck you will have. And

> the better you'll get at reaching out to those you care about.

>

> Here's the deal: Forward this letter to at least 10 different people;

> within 1 hour of receiving it. Do it, and reap what you sow: luck in

> love, people who care for you, and that warm feeling that comes from

> loving others.