I was walking into the mall the other day helping my wife return some of the returns she returned from Christmas day. Most of what was being returned was my gifts. This was not a great surprise because I am not known for my prowess when it comes to shopping. As I was walking through the entrance I noticed a young child sitting on his father’s shoulders exiting as I was entering. Right after we passed I heard the father tell his son to be careful not to hit his head on the sky. I stopped for a few seconds to ponder what I just heard. Can you imagine a father telling his son not to hit his head on the sky? My wife broke me out of my trance and off into the land of stores we roamed.
We went directly to Macys because my wife wanted a new pair of sneakers. Knowing this would not be an easy choice for her I decided to explore some of the bookstores in the mall. As I was wandering through the maze of stores and the multitudes of people doing the same a young woman came running up to me and asked how I was. I remembered her as being one of my students from years past. She was with some of her friends of whom she introduced as her new friends from college. I was thrilled to hear she was doing well and she had plans to go to graduate school in the fall. She told me she wanted to study geology. It was obvious she was proud of her accomplishments and it was even more obvious I was proud of her. As we bid our adieus I turned and reminded her to never forget to hit her head on the sky. I don’t know why I told her that but it felt right. At first she gave me a queer look but then smiled and told me she wouldn’t forget. I continued my walk through the labyrinth called the mall.
As I walked into one of the bookstores I noticed another one of my students behind the counter. I know he noticed me but it seemed as though he did not want to talk to me. I remember him as being a good student. In fact, to this day I can remember very few of my students who were not good. I walked up to him and asked how he was. He immediately told me he was going back to school because he knew how important it was. I made him laugh by telling him I was also going back to school because education was not something that stopped. I continued by telling him education was a continuous process that one should love to enjoy. He smiled and told me that he understood this. As I did earlier, before I said good-bye I told my ex-student not to forget to hit his head on the sky. He did not give me any kind of a queer look. He just told me he wouldn’t and hoped one day to see what was above the sky. As before I was taken back by a comment and then continued my quest through the mall.
It was getting late and I assumed my wife must have been down to at least a choice of one of six sneakers to buy. I turned to go back to where I left my wife when a man I hadn’t seen for well over a decade approached me. I was surprised he remembered who I was. I was not surprised I knew exactly who he was. He was the first principal I ever worked for as a teacher. Quick flashes of memory brought a smile to my face. If it wasn’t for his guidance I doubt I would be a teacher today. He asked how I was doing and I told him I was doing well and still teaching. I also told him I still loved what I did. I found out he was retired now and was enjoying the time that administration work never allowed. We talked about how teaching really never does change. The people may change but the quest for knowledge and the need to offer it was always what it was and hopefully always will be.
After a few more minutes we excused ourselves and went on our way. As we were walking in separate directions I turned around and told my mentor that I’ll never be afraid to hit my head on the sky. I was a little embarrassed to do this but it seemed right at the time. He turned, smiled, and taught me another lesson. He told me that there was no such thing as a sky so why should I be afraid to hit my head on it.
A few minutes later I returned to where my wife just purchased the perfect pair of sneakers. At least for the time being. She asked me why I had such a queer look on my face. All I could think of saying was that I loved her and I loved my life. We hugged and then she asked me if I thought the sneakers she had just purchased were a bit too green.
Jim Fabiano, a teacher and writer who lives in York, is a past recipient of the Maine Press Association’s award for Best Weekly Column. You can E-mail Jim at yorkmarine@yahoo.com.
