A TRUE FRIEND

  One day, when teaching Military Science, I asked my students to list the names of the other students in the room on several sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name.

  I then told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down next to their name.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the student’s left the room, each one handed in the papers.

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and 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 I meant anything to anyone!" and, "I didn't know others liked me so much," were most of the comments.

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again and 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. They would now work as a team.

Several years later, one of my students was killed in combat and I attended the funeral of that special student. I had seen many soldiers in a military coffin before, but for some reason, this one looked so handsome, so young, and so innocent.

The chapel was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. I was the last one to bless the coffin, straightening his Purple Heart as I did so.

As I stood there, one of the young cadets who acted as pallbearer came up to me.

"Were you Mark's teacher also?" he asked. I nodded: "Yes." Then he said: "Mark really talked about you a lot."

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went together to a luncheon. Mark's mother and father were there, eagerly waiting to speak with me.

"We want to show you something," his father said, taking his wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might have something to do with 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."

All of Mark's former classmates started to gather around. Andrew 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," John said. "It's in my bible."

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, and without batting an eyelash, she continued: "I think we all saved our lists. You taught us that everyone was special."

That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

We each forget that life will end one day, and we don't know when that one day will be.

So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.

Remember that you reap what you sow. What you put into the lives of others comes back into your own. So let it be written, so let it be done!

(This is a hypothetical story told to me by a fellow teacher in different context. I did not come up with the idea, but I did develop the writing. I have no idea who the originator was. This is something every teacher - Elementary-High-College-Sunday school - might think about trying.)

A true friend reaches for your hand and touches your heart!