I try to explain that this time in school is especially important
MY
best friend, Charna, retired this year. She was an outstanding teacher with decades of experience in every grade, girls and boys. Charna’s family moved often, and her reputation preceded her; she was greeted with open arms at every school in every town they lived in.
A few years ago, Charna and her husband moved to my hometown. I was delighted, and so were the local schools. Though a longtime bubby, my friend had no intention of retiring, and her age absolutely did not define her; her projects were new and exciting, and administrators often asked her for help on how to use the smart boards installed in their classrooms.
Every day, Charna would bound into the fifth-grade boys’ classroom and fill the children with a love of Yiddishkeit and some practical knowledge. She’d bring in Rav Avigdor Miller’s books and articles to supplement her lessons. She was hands-on, and led her class in exciting projects. Which ten-year-old boy didn’t love the life-size skeleton Charna had her students cut out and reassemble?
But within a few years of her move, I noticed that Charna’s sparkle was missing. I watched as my friend sadly lost the joy she had for teaching. Each morning filled her with dread in place of excitement.
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