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Ihaveetobelievethatagreatteacherisagreatartistandthatthereareasfewasthereareanyothergreatartists.Itmightevenbethegreatestoftheartsincethemediumisthehumanmindandspirit.
Ishallspeakonlyofmyfirstteacherbecauseinadditiontotheotherthings,shebroughtdiscovery.
Shearousedustoshouting,bookwavingdiscussions.Shehadthenoisiestclassinschoolandshedidn’tevenseemtoknowit.Wecouldneversticktothesubject.Shebreathedcuriosityintoussothatwebroughtinfactsortruthsshieldedinourhandslikecapturedfireflies.
Shewasfiredandperhapsrightlyso,forfailingtoteachfundamentals.Suchthingsmustbelearned.Butsheleftapassioninusforthepureknowableworldandsheinflamedmewithacuriositywhichhasneverleft.IcouldnotdosimplearithmeticbutthroughherIsensedthatabstractmathematicswasverymuchlikemusic.
Whenshewasrelieved,asadnesscameoverusbutthelightdidnotgoout.Shelefthersignatureonus,theliteratureoftheteacherwhowritesonminds.IsupposethattoalagerextentIamtheunsignedmanuscriptofthehighschoolteacher.Whatdeathlesspowerliesinthehandsofsuchaperson.
Icantellmysonwholooksforwardwithhorrortofifteenyearsofdrudgerythatsomewhereinthedustydarkamagicmayhappenthatwilllightuptheyears…ifheisverylucky.