There's a small brick (砖) house I visit from time to time. It's not the house that is specia, but the person who lives inside.
I met Miss Clark about 45 years ago when she was my sister's kindergarten teacher. I remember looking into her classroom wishing I was her student. My parents told me I could start school when I was 4. However, when I turned 4 in the spring. I couldn't understand why I had to wait until September. Anyway, I was finally in Miss Clark's class--Room 3. She always created a safe place where we could be whatever we wanted to be at that moment.
For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a teacher. When I graduated, I couldn't wait to invite Miss Clark to my classroom. She arrived one day, and I saw joy on my students' faces singing the same songs I sang with her as a child. As a new teacher, I was surprised at how she connected with children. For years, Miss Clark volunteered in my classroom.
Over the years we have shared in each other's ups and downs.
I am here for her now as the time to sell her house is near. I bring up boxes from her basement（地下室）. We go through every painting a student has given her, every thank-you note a parent has written and her teaching aids.
On the papers of the letters, I find my own name printed in green marker. Suddenly my mind goes back to Room 3. Over 40 years ago, Miss Clark sat on a chair while my classmates and I sat at her feet. We learned about the letters and their sounds. Now, Miss Clark sits on her rocking chair, and is it at her feet. We talk for hours. I listen carefully because I know I still have more to learn from her.
Our friendship is one that neither of us expected.
Educators know teaching is a job for the development of each young student. The excellent ones never leave their students' hearts.
