The Hardest Letters I Ever Had To Write

Lately I’ve been transcribing various pieces of my writing that were collecting dust in old folders, languishing on vintage floppies from long-gone days at school, and hiding in overlooked crevices around the house. For some reason, I thought it might be nice to print them out, and put them in folders for either my own reverie, or for public viewing in the lavish memorial library that I’m sure someone will build in my honor after I’m gone.

Anyway, as I was proceeding I found two letters that I wrote and gave to the students and staff on my final day in the classroom. Not surprisingly, reading them brought back a flood of memories, and as always… great emotion. Without question, that last day of school was one of the toughest of my life, at least, to date. And I found that trying to express my deepest thoughts and feelings to those looking in, was almost an impossible task.

Today I include those letters here. Perhaps it’s not the most interesting subject for a Blog post, but I did so as a small glimpse into what makes this older man tick. And, every once and awhile, it’s good for me to look back and remember how blessed I was to have spent so many years among the kids.

This is the letter I gave my First and Second Grade students on our last day together:

June 2004

Dear Class,
Thank you again for being such wonderful young boys and girls. I have loved being your teacher this year, and will miss the smiles and laughter that we shared each day in our classroom.

Even though I will not be back next year as a regular teacher, my thoughts will be with you each day. I know each of you will remember all the things we’ve talked about this year. The most important of these is that you are a wonderful, special person ... unique in all the world. Without you and the important things that you will accomplish in your life, the world would suffer a great loss. Also, you have the power to make the people around you better by sharing your love and special talents. I know you will always do that. You have with me this year, and I am a better person thanks to you.

After some time off, I hope to see you all again. Until then, if you want to contact me, I leave you these addresses:

You can write to me here: (Contact Information)

Please take good care of yourselves, and keep smiling ... :) :) I leave you with my love, and will keep you in my heart, always.

Mr. (Paisano)

And this is the letter I left for each staff member:

June 2004

Dear Friends,
Today I locked my classroom door for the final time. As most of you have sensed, it was one of the most difficult days in my life. Saying good-bye to the kids was impossible, even though I did my best. We hugged, we cried, and despite my attempts at gentle humor, our hearts were unbearably sad.

Thank you for your support during this past month. Thanks, also, for honoring my request to keep news of the occasion from the kids and their parents until these last days and hours. Despite the emotional hit, it meant a lot to me to be able to tell them personally. I owed them that.

To those of you who wanted to honor my departure with some type of public recognition, I apologize if you feel cheated due to my wishes. I know such occasions are a way of expressing affection and honor, thus I thank you for wanting to do it at all. It just couldn’t have been a happy occasion for me, and I would not have wanted my demeanor to disrespect your wonderful intent. Maybe in a couple of months we can get together off campus and hoist one to the “good old days.”

So saying, should you still feel the need to “do something,” I would ask you to consider writing me a short personal note when you get the chance. You know we teachers .... a few kind words are more precious than gold.

Let me leave you, temporarily, with something to ponder. It is an insight that explains, at least for me, why I’ve loved teaching children all these years, and why I am so sad in leaving. At a recent party for a former colleague, the word got out that I had only a few days left in the classroom. A sincere and well-meaning acquaintance came up to me and said, “Friend, you can be proud of all that you’ve given so many kids over the years.” Instinctively I smiled, and with a twinkle in my eye, said, “Nah, those kids have given me far more over the years than I ever gave them.”

I challenge you to test this theory. I commend you for doing God’s work. I value you as colleagues and unsung heroes. I will miss you!

With great affection,

(Paisano)