9
When Mrs. Panim, her son, and Mrs. Stottle arrived home
that day, and after the boy was cleaned up, Mrs. Panim sat on the sofa in her
living room, her head in her hands, crying.
“What am I going to do, what am I going to do?” she
repeated over and over and over again. Mrs. Stottle came by her, sat down on
the sofa next to her, and tried to comfort her.
“He will be fine. He will be just fine,” Mrs. Stottle said,
putting her hand on Mrs. Panim’s back. “He is a fine young boy, and don’t take
what happened today as an omen for things to come. Abraham Lincoln Panim will
do well in life.”
“But what am I going to do about nursery school, and even
when he goes into kindergarten, and first grade, and second grade … ? Mrs.
Panim asked, still sobbing between each word of her question to Mrs. Stottle.
“I have an idea,” replied Mrs. Stottle, as Mrs. Panim
continued to cry. “I have a wonderful idea.”
Mrs. Panim looked up briefly as the tears continued to fall
out of her eyes. “What idea is that,” she asked Mrs. Stottle.
Mrs. Stottle stood up and walked to the side of Mrs. Panim.
“A number of years ago—“
“What’s the idea?” Mrs. Panim interrupted.
“Just hear me out,” replied Mrs., Stottle. “Please hear me
out.”
She gave Mrs. Panim a wad of tissues to dry her eyes, and
then the older woman told the younger woman about her idea.
“A number of years ago, long before you were born, I went
to school, and probably thought that I would meet the man of my dreams and get married
and live in a home surrounded by a white picked fence and have scads and scads
of kids myself,” Mr. Stottle said.
“What does this have to do with--?” Mrs. Panim asked.
Mrs., Stottle sat down on the couch next to Mrs. Panim and
put an arm around her.
“Let me continue,” Mrs., Stottle said. “Well, my knight in
shining armor did not come to take me away, and once I got through high school,
I decided to go to college, which, back then, wasn’t something a lot of young
ladies did.
“I went to college, got my degree, and since my knight in
shining armor never came to rescue me, when I had my college degree, I reached
a point where I had to decide what I was going to do with my life.
“I decided to go into teaching, and I ended up teaching for
a number of years.”
When Mrs. Panim heard this, her tears stopped coming out of
her eyes, and she looked at Mrs. Stottle.
“Please let me continue,” Mrs. Stottle said. “Anyway, I
taught for a number of years at a local school. I taught young kids,
kindergarten, first, second grade, children of that age.
“And even when I was teaching, I always thought that my
knight in shining armor was going to come, and one day, he did! He was another
teacher, by the name of Herman Stottle, and he came from another school to teach
at my school. He was so handsome, so tall and good looking, and really smart.
He was in the room next to mine, and the moment I saw him, I knew that my
knight in shining armor had finally come.”
Mrs. Panim, now completely composed, said, “Well, that is
all fine and good, but what does all of this have to do with my son? You
probably taught many, many years ago.”
“Yes, I did. But back to my story … Herman and I were
married after about a year, and we had a wonderful marriage. He continued to
teach, and so did I.
“Then, after a number of years of teaching, I found that my
eyesight was failing, and my feet were killing me. I could still see, and I
could still walk, but not very well. Herman and I went to a number of
specialists, but they could do nothing for me.
“Finally, after about 25 years of teaching, I could no
longer do my job because I simply could not see well, nor could I stay on my
feet for any long period of time. I had to retire. But I asked my principal if
I could mentor, or tutor, special children, kids who he thought had the
potential to be really successful but didn’t have the confidence to get to that
point, or maybe were a little different than what you would call the ‘normal’
child.”
Mrs. Panim’s still red eyes lit up, as if a light bulb went
off in her head as Mrs. Stottle went on with her story.
“So even though I couldn’t see well, nor walk well, for a
few years, I tutored one child each year. Mr. Stottle continued to teach. We
could not have children of our own, so his class were his children and my
special student was my child. I know that might seem odd, but that is how we
looked at it.
“One year, I tutored a beautiful little girl, who was a
foster child and who I knew would succeed with whatever she did. She had little
confidence. Children had made fun of her, she was very self conscious of the
way she looked, but during that year with me, she came out of her shell, and
her body changed, and she looked like every other young lady you would see in
school.”
Mrs. Panim wanted to speak, but Mrs. Stottle put a finger
up to the younger woman’s mouth.
“I was Miss Meyer back then, and that little girl was born
with a tail. When it fell off that year, it was like that little girl was a
different child.
“And that child, that little girl who went from a moth to a
butterfly over the course of that year, was YOU!”
All of a sudden, the past came into focus for Mrs. Panim.
Mrs. Stottle and Miss Meyer were one and the same person. She was the woman who
helped her during that one very important year when she was growing up, when
she still had a tail that protruded out of her that she was so self conscious
of that she always tried to cover it up as best she could.
She never went swimming, never exposed it to anyone, but
her classmates knew, and she was the victim of taunting and numerous jokes from
both boys and girls.
But then, with Miss Meyer tutoring her, she finally found a
friend, someone who believed in her, and the tail literally fell off.
And Mrs. Panim suddenly remembered Mrs. Stottle’s large
feet, which she always complained about, and how large and sore they seemed to
be.
After that year, she never saw Miss Meyer again. She often
wondered what had happened to her, but it all came to her very quickly …
“Do unto others as you would have the do unto you … treat
other people the way you would like to be treated yourself.”
“Oh, Miss Meyer … Mrs. Stottle … I so often wondered about
you and what had happened to you,” Mrs., Panim said as she hugged the older
woman.
“Please let me finish my story,” Mrs. Stottle said. “I
tutored kids like you, kids a little bit out of the ordinary, for a number of
years, until my eyesight wouldn’t allow for it anymore. Mr. Stottle eventually
retired, and I am sorry to say he passed away a little while ago.
“But even if I wasn’t teaching, I always renewed my
teaching license, and I still have it. If you allow me to, I will be Abraham
Lincoln Panim’s teacher. He can be home taught, and never have to deal with
those people again.”
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