[Fwd: Fw: Very touching]
>From: hapyshel@swbell.net (Happy Shel)
>Date: Fri, Oct 10, 1997 14:39 EDT
>Message-id: <343E779F.5A60.alt.gathering.rainbow@swbell.net>
>
>This is a multi-part message in MIME format.
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>With so much crap coming across email, these days, I felt compelled to
>pass this one on, "Very Touching" to all my friends. Peace & love to
>all, Happy
>
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>From: "Mike Marcus" <bigmikey@interserv.com>
>To: "Rex Tetrick" <texrex@flash.net>, "eric stuer"
><stucreative@rythymweb.com>,
> "Matt Marcus" <mattm@websurfer.net>,
> "Sheldon gordon" <sgordon3@juno.com>, "Jan Overbo"
><jano@bluehawk.com>,
> "Paul Rousell" <ink@shreve.net>, "shel weisman" <happy@drums.org>,
> "Dan Marcus" <dannybobbi@aol.com>
>Subject: Fw: Very touching
>Date: Tue, 7 Oct 1997 19:58:40 -0700
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>
>There is so much crap that comes across email but I felt this is really
>uplifting and worth sharing with friends. mm
>
>
> All the Good Things:
>
> He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's
>School
>in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark
>Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that
>happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischieviousness
>delightful.
>
> Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again
>that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so
>much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for
>misbehaving - "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to
>make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many
>times a day.
>
> One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once
>too often, and then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at him and
>said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"
>
> It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is
>talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark,
>but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act
>on it.
>
> I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I
>walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll
>of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore
>off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then
>returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was
>doing he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class
>cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged my
>shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."
>
> At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior-high math.
>The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He
>was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen
>carefully to my instructions in the "new math," he did not talk as much in
>ninth grade as he had in the third.
>
> One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard
>on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning,
>frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I had to stop this
>crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of
>the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space
>between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they
>could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
>
> It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment,
>and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers.
>Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a
>good weekend."
>
> That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate
>sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that
>individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long,
>the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew
>that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much!"
>
> No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew
>if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't
>matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were
>happy with themselves and one another again.
>
> That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I
>returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were
>driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the
>weather, my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the
>conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and simply says, "Dad?"
>My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important.
>"The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't
>heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."
>
> Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said.
>"The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could
>attend." To this day II can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where
>Dad told me about Mark.
>
> I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark
>looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was,
>Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk
>to me.
>
> The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang
>"The battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of
>the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said
>the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved
>Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.
>
> I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one
>of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you
>Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the
>coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.
>
> After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to
>Chucks farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously
>waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a
>wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We
>thought you might recognize it."
>
> Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of
>notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many
>times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had
>listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him.
>"Thank you so much for doing that" Mark's mother said. "As you can see,
>Mark treasured it."
>
> Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled
>rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer
>of
>my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put this in our
>wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary."
>Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her
>wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this
>with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we
>all saved our lists."
>
> That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and
>for all his friends who would never see him again.
> THE END
>>>> written by: Sister Helen P. Mrosia
>>>>
>>>> The purpose of this letter, is to encourage everyone to
>>>compliment
>>>>the
>>>> people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the
>>>importance of
>>>> showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things,
>>>could
>>>>mean the most to another. I am asking you, to please send this
>>>letter
>>>>around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your love
>>>and
>>>>caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The density
>>>of
>>>>people in society, is so thick, that we forget that life will end one
>>>day.
>>>> And we don't know when that one day will be. So please, I beg of you,
>>>to
>>>>tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and
>>>important.
>>>> Tell them, before it is too late.
>>>>
>>>> I leave these messages with you and ask you to continue to
>>>spread the
>>>>message to everyone you know.
>>>>