Grief Article

The Teacher Who Made A Difference
© A. Edrich
All materials copyrighted

“I don’t want to draw! I can’t write a story, now. My sister isn’t here. Leave me alone,” my son wept as he slammed his head down on the table, covered it up with his hands, and commenced to weep. There was just no way of getting through to him.

It was going to be a very difficult year for my soon-to-be second grade son. It had been two months since his little sister died a tragic death, but it might as well have been yesterday. He wasn’t ready for school. He wasn’t ready to talk with other children. And he definitely wasn’t ready to write stories. He had always included his sisters in his stories and now one of them was forever gone. He just wasn’t ready to deal with the facts of life, learning new things, listening to his friends talk about what a great summer they had, or any of the idle chit chat most young children drool over.

We weren’t sure how to prepare him for the new year either—after all, we were still grieving and could barely pull ourselves out of bed. And then came the knock on our front door. It was our son’s first grade teacher, Mrs. Perkins, and with her came a stranger; a stranger that would not only become our son’s second grade teacher, but our son’s lifeline at school. Her name was Mrs. Griffin.

Mrs. Griffin was tall, with long blonde hair, a slender body, and a smile the size of Montana. Whenever she smiled, you couldn’t help but see a sparkle in her eyes, and the love of Jesus shine through. Mrs. Griffin came to our door with that very smile, but also with eyes that cried out, “How can I help you? I want to help you. Please invite me into your life.”

She had heard of our tragedy and wanted to let us know that she would do whatever was necessary to help our son adjust to his new life without his sister. She assured us that she would be compassionate, supportive, and understanding when he had bad days at school, and that she would give him time to adjust. But she didn’t know what she was in for.

Once a bright, talented child with a giving heart and an inner-love that lit up the room, our son had now become a bitter little boy who was easily agitated, irritated, and confused. Once he loved school and strived to be at the top of his class, but now he refused to do any work; especially when it came time to write essays.

Every day was the same. When confronted with an English assignment, my son simply put his head down on the table and refused to work. If you persisted in trying to get him to work, he would look up at you with eyes so cold they could cut a hole right through you. He wouldn’t say a word, but the expression on his face said it all: “Don’t even think about it. There is no way you are getting me to write one single word.” And then he’d put his head right back down on the table. If that didn’t work, he would become abusive by calling his teacher a name and swinging his arms in the air or throwing a punch at her mid-section.

Mrs. Griffin had heard great things about our son, yet he wasn’t measuring up to the legacy he had left behind. His grades were bad and his attitude sucked. And the more the school administrators commented on his drop in grades, the angrier I became. I didn’t care that he wasn’t receiving top grades. All I cared about was that he got up every morning, ate his meals, interacted with the other children, and was trying to work through his grief. I knew his grades would improve, when his grieving had passed.

I stressed my concerns to Mrs. Griffin and while she understood my views, she kindly pointed out that if I didn’t encourage him to work through his grief and bring his grades up, the lesson I would teach him would be: “when life gets too tough, give up and run away from your problems.”

It was a hard message to hear, as I was in the same boat as my son. Had I not had children, I would have found it quite easy to give up. But Mrs. Griffin sensed that as well. She always had something uplifting to say to me and she always went the extra mile with my son.

Mrs. Griffin endured a lot more than she had to as a teacher. She had every reason to request my son be pulled from her class, but she stuck it out. She kept her promise to him.

She gave him room to deal with his loss, sent notes home to let us know when he had a really bad day, stopped by on the week-ends to check up on him, nurtured him, showed him compassion, and reminded him that he was indeed loved. She truly demonstrated that teachers are much more than instructors, that they are an extended part of the family, for the entire year that student is in their care. She remained true to her word and in the end, she helped him heal and trust again.

Mrs. Griffin believed that her students’ entire family setting helped make them great students, so she reached out to the family as a whole whenever she could. She was a truly remarkable woman and one that I will never forget.

About The Author:
Alyice Edrich believes that eulogies, written from the heart, pay respect to the deceased, and give honor to his/her memory. Hire Alyice to help you write your eulogy, tribute, or funeral speech. Learn More

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