Remembering

My #2 child is in 6th grade. He is taller than I am and I am certain he is smarter, he just doesn't have any life experience yet.

Why am I writing this? I have a tiny wallet picture of my sixth grade teacher sitting here on my desk. It has been sitting here since my Mom came and we scanned hundreds of old pictures. This is one that she said I might as well have.

Have you ever had people in your life that have changed you? Mrs. Orgille was one of those people. My brother was one year ahead of me in school. He had Mrs. Orgille first. She thought he was the cat's meow. She just loved him and his curly blonde hair. She actually cut a lock of his beautiful curls so that she could always have something to remember him by. Vance loved her as well.

Mrs. Orgille scared me to death the first week of sixth grade! I will never forget her showing us what would happen if we stole out of her desk--she slammed the drawer closed HARD! I was certain that my brother had been mistaken about her!

As the year progressed I quickly knew why Vance had loved her so. She had a way about her. She knew how to make you feel good about yourself. At sixth grade this is so vital. I was one of the biggest kids in my grade. I had all my height early--then never got any more! I had ugly glasses and ugly hair---what were we all thinking in the late 70's, early 80's with all those tight curly perms?

I remember Mrs. Orgille giving me a ride home one time. I am not sure why. However, I remember that she told me that I could turn a big assignment in a few days late. It was just between us. I remember when I went to school and she started calling for that assignment, I was so nervous. She just said my name and checked it off. Looking back, I realize that she was probably more aware of some problems that were happening with one of my older siblings than I really was. She was probably trying to give me all the extra love she could, just to help.

I remember another big project we had. We had to make very large story books with the illustrations. They didn't have to be our own story. We could tell a printed story. I chose Goldilocks and the Three bears. We worked and worked on those books. Then we went to the younger classes and read our stories to them. I remember when she came and asked me privately if she could keep my book--she liked it so much that she wanted to keep it to use. I felt like I had won the lottery. I wasn't the only one that she selected. However, she didn't select every students. It was a quiet thing. But it was a huge thing for me!

Mrs. Orgille had a way about her that everyone loved.

Fast forward a few years. I remember her coming to my Dad's funeral and just hugging my brother and I so tightly. I remember her coming to visit, just because, with her purple Berkenstock sandals(she loved purple). I remember her coming to my wedding reception and just beaming like she was my grandmother. I remember being at my sweet cousin's two month old baby's funeral---she came after the funeral, just frantic because she had just heard. My cousin had had her as well. She came in and just loved my cousin, like she loved me and every other student she had ever had. When she saw you she just beamed. She would always say "How's my girl?" Then she would say "how's that favorite boy of mine?" (meaning my cute brother).

Why am I writing all this down? She was probably the first person (besides my parents) that I ever truly felt really believed in me. Perhaps it was just because I was maturing but I don't think so. I think that Mrs. Orgille had a gift. Her gift was that she was able to see the diamond in the lump of coal. She didn't care if you were the cutest girl or the kid from the wrong side of the tracks. She was able to love you just because you were you.

I found out Mrs. Orgille passed away last summer. I would have loved to visit with her again.

She is one of my all time favorite people.

I hope that one day I can grow up to be like her.