An Epiphany on a High School Bench with a 14 Year Old

She sat still for a bit, slightly anxious, on a bench near the gate. Every now and then she would look towards the watchman for a sign that her car had arrived to pick her up. I sat by her, observing her innocence, her determined chin and wisps of hair that waved in the soft gushes of wind, for it was an unusually pleasant afternoon. She looked at me apologetically, her face flushed slightly as she uttered how sorry she was that I had to wait because of her.

'How ridiculous', I thought, shaking my head slightly. Out aloud I said, 'I wouldn't want my daughter to be left alone under such circumstances, how can I leave you?'

She smiled, and turned to look at the gate, failing to notice the tears well up in my eyes, for she even looked like my eldest.

I toyed with my cell phone, after all, no young teen would engage in friendly banter with a high school teacher, it was just not done.

As I was lost in a chain of thoughts that was stirred up by the thought of my daughter, that led to the memories of my whole brood, lost in the wind somewhere, her gentle voice broke through.

'So you're an iphone person'. It was more of an observation rather than a question.

'Yes, I am actually. It's a good phone.'

She smiled. There was intelligence in her eyes, she seemed in that moment, a kindred soul.

'So what are your plans for next year?' I asked her.

'Well, my parents are doctors, my eldest sister is a doctor, so naturally, I'll be a doctor.'

I looked at her in wonder, she said it with such calmness, but there was no passion, like she had accepted her fate of becoming a doctor, like in her world, there was no other option.

'But..?', I said, knowing there were some words sitting on the tip of her tongue that seemed like they needed to escape.

'I love speaking, I love interacting with people, public relations and all that. But..my parents would never consider me going into anything else besides medical.' She said this with some disdain. All I could do was give her a look of compassion and understanding, and she seemed oddly comforted.

And that was the end of that part of the conversation. Silence.

'Which classes do you teach Miss?'

I looked at her in wonder, 'Quite a chatty young person, friendly,' I thought.

'I teach grades 9 and 10. This means you'll be coming to me next year.'

She grinned, it was a nice grin, it was a grin that attested to her approval of me as her future teacher, it was reassuring.

'My current English teacher is nice. I like her,' she said with emphasis.

'Really, how do you mean?' I asked with some curiosity, I wanted to explore what this wisp of a thing considered 'a nice teacher' to be. I wondered if I would be able to make that cut.

'She doesn't only teach English, she understands us, and she teaches us things about life too. Most of our teachers just come for the sake of doing their time, they don't care...'

She searched for some closing words but they defied her. It was up to me to interject at this point.

 'She wants to make a difference.'

'Yes!' She nodded with some enthusiasm and got the closure she needed.

'It will be very interesting to have you in my class next year young lady,' I said.

The watchman called out and she gave me the prettiest smile and then she was gone.

Somehow, all the twists and turns along my journey that I had taken, every crossroads that presented itself to me along the way, had led me up to this very moment in time- to share some moments with this amazing young person, to look after her for those few minutes, to listen to her desires and understand her being when she knew that no one else would, right there, on an insignificant bench at school on the weekend, waiting for her car to pick her up after extra classes.

I was an hour late reaching home this afternoon, but I knew or rather was reminded by this encounter, that I had a bigger purpose. What I could not, cannot, do for my own children, I could do for so so many more young people out there, provide an empathetic ear, give steadfast support, sometimes silently, sometimes vocally, simply put, I have the power to make a difference. And maybe I am meant to do just that. I always knew about my calling in life, but sometimes the universe sends out a reminder. The very bane of my existence, is ironically, by greatest strength.

So on wards into tomorrow, more adventures in store, more souls to reach, more love to give out, more compassion to share, more wisdom to impart, more nurturing to do- to make a difference.