What Became of Timmy

Dear Nana,

This will be a letter within a letter. Sort of like how the musical The Producers is a play within a play, only not as funny and without the showtunes.

Today I was looking through a scrapbook that I made a while back. It contains some old photographs of you and Grandpa from your years of courting, as well as some of your old dance cards from the 1920s. But the most recent bit of history in the scrapbook is a letter written to you on June 29, 1961, four days past your 52nd birthday. I'd read the letter long ago and it had moved me. But I wasn't a teacher then. Now the letter, well, it simply blew me away. It reads as follows:

Dear Mrs. Shullman,

During these last two terms, since our Timmy joined your 5th grade, we had indeed many occasions to address short notes to you! Maybe too many. But none was quite like this one.

Now we have to say Good Bye to you and to try to express to you our feeling of gratitude for the understanding, patience, and love you always had for Timmy.

That these two school terms turned out to be such a happy and rewarding time for Timmy is first of all due to your efforts and devotions and we would like you to know how reassuring it is for parents to be able to cooperate with a person like you in the education of their child.

As a small and just symbolic token of our feeling of thanks we send to you a little Mediterranean jar, - in Israel, water and the preservation of it, stand for the future and life itself. So let us wish you many, many years of fruitful and rewarding work in this most important of all fields, - the bringing up of a worthy youth!

Thank you for the pleasure of working with you! Wishing you a happy and restful summer-vacation, for yourself and your family.

We remain sincerely yours,
D. and M. Pragai

After reading this letter that unabashedly applauds your work as a teacher, I was tempted to look up Mr. and Mrs. Pragai to see if they still live at 345 Riverside Drive. I wonder how Timmy turned out. No doubt, because of his time with you, he turned out well.

Timmy must have begun his year with you as a difficult child. I know the type. I have countless Timmys in my class now and have had many over the years. But never have I received such a heartfelt note. Words, yes. A handshake and a thank you, yes. A gift card to Starbucks, yes. But to take the time to write a letter so powerful ... well, it doesn't seem to be the thing that people do anymore. The note, typed on thin stationary paper, was lovingly folded into an envelope and mailed to you at your home. The words in the note were carefully chosen, as well as the accompanying gift of the jar with it's message of good fortune and honest hope for your future.

I may never get a note like this from a parent. In fact, I'm quite sure of it. In this day and age, people are too busy to write letters. Why use a pen and paper? Why use a stamp? The closest thing one gets to a letter nowadays is a hastily written email, often unsigned, and more often unmemorable. But this one, this one from Timmy's parents, has survived. And it will continue to survive as a testament to your commitment to teaching and the heart with which you went to work each day.

We rarely spoke of your job as a teacher, but the letter from the Pragais says it all. I know, now, what kind of teacher you were. And I hope to be the same kind. I hope that someday I touch a child's life just as you touched Timmy's. And that Mediterranean jar, whatever became of it, I hope it gave you all that Pragai's hoped it would.
Love, Katie