Once upon a time in the small town of Morris, Minnesota, a devoted teacher named Sister Anonymous had a remarkable student named Mark Eklund. Mark stood out in the class not only with his well-groomed appearance but also with his boundless joy of life. Despite his occasional mischief, his charisma endeared him to his teacher and classmates….
I heard this story a long time ago and since then I have been wondering if it is true or not. However, after doing some research, I found out that this is a true story…
The text is below:
He was a student in the first third-grade class I ever had at Morris, Minnesota’s Saint Mary’s School. I loved every one of my 34 students, but Mark Eklund was truly special. Despite his very well-groomed appearance, he exuded a joie de vivre that made even his occasional mischief enjoyable.
Mark talked non-stop. He needed to be repeatedly reminded that talking without permission was unacceptable. But what really got me was his honest response every time I had to reprimand him for behaving inappropriately: “Thanks for reprimanding me, sister! At first, I wasn’t sure what to think about it, but after I grew up a while. used to hear it often throughout the day.
When Mark chattered excessively one morning and then made the mistake of being a beginner instructor, I lost my tolerance. If you say one more word, I’ll tape your mouth shut, I said as I turned to Mark. Not even ten seconds had passed when Chuck suddenly called out, “Mark’s talking again.
Because I announced the punishment in front of the class, I had to take it, even though I didn’t ask any of the students to help me observe Mark. I can still picture that scene as if it happened right now. I walked over to my desk, very slowly opened the drawer, and pulled out a roll of masking tape. I silently walked over to Mark’s desk, ripped off two pieces of tape, and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. Mark winked at me as I turned to see how he was doing.
That worked! I burst out laughing. I returned to Mark’s desk, removed the tape, and shrugged as the class applauded. The first thing he said was, “Thank you, sister, for correcting me.
I was asked to teach high school math at the end of the school year. The years flew by and before I knew it, Mark was back in my class. He was as polite and good-looking as ever. He didn’t poop as much as he did in third grade in ninth grade because he had to pay close attention to my instructions about “new math.”
Things just weren’t looking good on Friday. We had been working diligently on a new idea all week and I could see that the children were grumbling, annoyed with themselves, and tense with each other. I needed to control my irritation before it got out of hand. So I instructed them to write the names of the other students in the class on two pieces of paper, with a space between each name.
I then instructed them to write down the kindest compliment they could muster for each of their peers. After completing an assignment that took up the rest of the class, each student handed me their papers as they left the room. Charles smiled. Thank you, sister, for teaching me, Mark said. Enjoy your weekend.
On a separate piece of paper, I listed each student’s name and what other students said about them that Saturday.
I turned in each student’s list on Monday. Soon everyone in the class was smiling. Really?” I caught a whisper. “I had no idea it meant anything to anyone!” I had no idea how much others loved me. No one ever took out papers in class again. It didn’t matter if they talked about them with their parents or after school, I never knew. The goal of the exercise was accomplished. The students were once again satisfied with themselves and each other.
Children from this group moved on. My folks met me at the airport a few years later when I came home from vacation. My mother asked me about the holiday, the weather, and my experiences in general as we traveled home.
There was a pause in the dialogue. Mom just asks, “Daddy?” after looking askance at Dad. Father cleared his throat as always before a big event. “The Eklunds called last night,” he said. “Really?” I asked. They didn’t contact me for a long time. Not sure about Mark. Dad replied subtly. He stated, “Mark was killed in Vietnam. His parents would appreciate it if you could come to the funeral tomorrow. I can still pinpoint where on I-494 my father informed me about Mark.”
I had never seen a soldier laid to rest in a military casket before. Mark looked really mature and elegant. I remember thinking, “Mark, I’d give all the masking tape in the world if you’d talk to me.”
Several of Mark’s friends were in the church. Chuck’s sister performed “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”. Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was already difficult at the grave. A trumpeter played the taps while the pastor recited the usual prayers. The people who loved Mark went one by one to the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water. I was the last to bless the casket. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who served as a messenger approached me. He asked, “Were you Mark’s math teacher? I continued to look at the coffin and nodded.” Mark mentioned you often, he said.
Most of Mark’s former classmates went to Chuck’s farm for lunch after the funeral. Mark’s mother and father were waiting for me there. His father took his wallet out of his pocket and said, “We want to show you something.” When Mark was killed, they found it on him. We believed you might be familiar with it. He carefully opened his wallet and took out two worn pieces of notebook paper that had been taped, folded, and folded many times.
Without looking, I recognized papers like the one on which I listed all the positive comments each of Mark’s classmates had made about him. “Mark’s mother said, “Thank you so much for doing this. You can see how much Mark liked it. Mark’s classmates started to press toward us.
I still have my list, Charlie added with a sheepish look. It is stored at home in the top drawer of the desk. Chuck’s husband stated, “Chuck asked me to put it in our wedding album.” Marilyn added, “I have mine too.” I have it in my diary. Vicki, another classmate, then reached into her wallet, pulled out her wallet, and showed the group her tattered and disorganized list. Vicki said without batting an eye, “I always have this with me.” “I believe we all kept our lists,” When I finally sat down to cry, it was. Since Mark will never see his friends again, I cried for all of them.
We lose sight of the fact that life will end one day because of how many individuals there are in our society. And we have no idea when that day will come. Tell the people you care about that they are special and valuable, please. Tell them before it’s too late.
As we reflect on this story, we are reminded of the importance of spreading kindness, expressing gratitude, and appreciating the moments we have with the people we love. It’s a reminder to take every opportunity to show our loved ones how much they mean to us, to celebrate their uniqueness, and to make the most of the time we have together. In a world that often moves at a fast pace, it is essential to stop and appreciate the people who touch our lives because they are the ones who truly give life meaning.
May the memory of Mark Eklund live on as a reminder that a few words of kindness and appreciation can have a lasting impact and that the bonds of friendship and love transcend the boundaries of time and space.
A beautiful but tragic story. God be with this teacher. There must be more like her.
Tell your loved ones and friends about this story.