My cousin Mitzi did it again: she says this one has made the internet rounds many times already, but I hadn’t seen this particular one before. It’s an urban legend, but it could have been true. True stories just like this happen all the time, you know. Not this particular time, but all the time.

If there are any typos in this post, it’s because. . . . well, you’ll know why.

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As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X’s and then putting a big “F” at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child’s past records and she put Teddy’s off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy’s first grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners… he is a joy to be around..” His second grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.” His third grade teacher wrote, “His mother’s death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn’t show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren’t taken.” Teddy’s fourth grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is withdrawn and doesn’t show much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class.”

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy’s. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children’s laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.

Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, “Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.”

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.

Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her “teacher’s pets..”

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he’d stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer…. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson’s ear, “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson, for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important, and showing me that I could make a difference”

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, “Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn’t know how to teach until I met you.”

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Now, if you’ve gotten this story in your email before, I hope you do realize that it’s fictional. The essay goes on to say that Teddy Stoddard founded the Stoddard Cancer Wing at Iowa Methodist in Des Moines. That isn’t true. There IS a Stoddard Cancer Wing at Iowa Methodist, but it was not founded by Teddy Stoddard. It was founded by John Stoddard, a businessman who has no connection whatsoever with the Teddy Stoddard of this little piece of fiction.

But any teacher, and any parent, will recognize the potential of stories like this to be true. This one isn’t, but others are.

And any little child sitting in our classrooms right this minute might be the ONE. That is one of many reasons why all good teachers treat each child as if he/she were the most special and wonderful child in all the world.

It’s so easy to do. And besides, each and every child in each and every classroom anywhere, IS the most special and wonderful child in all the world.

There is such potential in a child. Such wonder and glory and things thought that were never thought before, in every child.

Why are so many school curriculums and administrations so bound and determined to stamp that out in the name of standardization? There must be a special circle of Hell for anyone who deliberately stifles a child’s own gift. Who knows what kind of world we might have, even now, if every child’s potential was allowed and encouraged to flower?

The job description of most teachers (thrust into many a teacher’s face whenever someone starts to seem a little more human and caring than the administration likes) states in black and white the duties of the teacher. The duties are to teach spelling, math, English, writing, geography, etc. Their duties are NOT to teach children. I think this goes far beyond absurd, far beyond the ridiculous, and into the realm of the disgraceful.

And now I shall stop ranting lest I use a dirty word when describing administration. . . . .