Each of us is a teacher. Our classrooms are in the home, in a car, in an office or a drive-through window. It is inevitable that people will watch us and learn something from us and about us.
An encounter over a phone bill or a parking space or our reactions to cultural differences perhaps reflect how we were taught. I remind myself of this often in the presence of grandchildren, who are most definitely paying attention to every little thing I say and do.
We teach through our words. Is it encouragement or criticism? Do we praise or ridicule? Speak discerningly or lie? Celebrate or gossip out of jealousy?
Humans learn from others’ actions, too. Are we responsible, thoughtful, hardworking and generous of spirit? Or, do we shirk accountability, complain constantly, and take the shortcut while doing only what is best for us financially or physically?
I wonder what children are thinking. How do their little hearts translate our words and actions at a ballgame or while on a telemarketer phone call in their presence?
Some of my favorite life teachers were my parents’ friends. It was a privilege to watch many of them live well into their eighties. These were mostly individuals with whom we attended church but also folks who shared school and community activities. Several of them knew me and my siblings from the day we came home from the hospital. On Sunday and Wednesday nights my parents and the group took turns hosting after-church pie and coffee so the kids could play.
They grew old, and I was there for it. These dear souls continued to teach by word and action at every twist and turn of my family’s story. They stuck around for the difficult moments and were present to celebrate my daughters’ lives, too. Twentyfive years after coming to my ball games or school events, they drove thirty miles to Gail to watch Julie and Emily. They were people whose words and actions mirrored hearts that I instinctively knew to be pure.
Most impressively, my cloud of witnesses kept learning. They evolved into elderly sages who spent more time demonstrating love than they did hating what they did not always understand. In doing so, these octogenarians were doing their small part to transform the world, hoping to make it better for me and for generations to come—much the way scripture’s perfect Teacher had tried to do.
“Give me your eyes for just one second, give me your eyes so I can see everything that I’ve keep missing, give me your love for humanity.” —Brandon Heath/Jason Ingram My favorite life teachers are long gone, but I try to honor them by growing in my faith with words and deeds most reflective of Jesus.
Snyder, Texas, native Sue Jane Sullivan is a retired schoolteacher whose thoughtprovoking commentary appears occasionally in several West Texas newspapers, including The Texas Spur and The Caprock Courier.
