Little teacher Station. My all exams finished and I was waiting for bus. At that time sudden, I saw little, so pretty, sympathetic, clean and stylishly dressed a boy. He is about 4 or 5 years old. He used to collect garbage around the sidewalk so take it to special conteniars. I was watching the clever boy during a few time. This Street crowded, in this case lot of people look at the boy and shying for casting own garbage to walkway. They watched the boy a fewer time and blush from own behavior. I also watched the position so thought about doing goodness for enviroment. The goodness absolutely return to our life, even will influence to future. Definitely, being decent isn't depend on to age or format of humans. Those only depend on a person's soul and behavior. I figure out, the boy teach me that lesson, besides stayed at my mind as little teacher.

Station. My all exams finished and I was waiting for bus. At that time sudden, I saw little, so pretty, sympathetic, clean and stylishly dressed a boy. He is about 4 or 5 years old. He used to collect garbage around the sidewalk so take it to special conteniars. I was watching the clever boy during a few time. This Street crowded, in this case lot of people look at the boy and shying for casting own garbage to walkway. They watched the boy a fewer time and blush from own behavior. I also watched the position so thought about doing goodness for enviroment. The goodness absolutely return to our life, even will influence to future. Definitely, being decent isn't depend on to age or format of humans. Those only depend on a person's soul and behavior. I figure out, the boy teach me that lesson, besides stayed at my mind as little teacher.

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The wind blew a gentle breeze, the pool water was rippling, and the sun was shining without a stormy cloud in sight. The day started as it normally did. I woke up around 9:30 am, ate breakfast, and pulled out a good book to read. As usual, Mom came in an hour or so later and told me to pick up my room and to make my bed. Once I did these things, I went back to reading until it was time for lunch. After lunch, I changed into my bathing suit and headed out back so I could go for a swim. The cool water would feel good on my sweltering hot skin. I had to apply sunscreen, then let it sit before I could get in the water. Once the sunscreen settled, I got on the edge of the diving board, preparing to do a back dive. My hands were over my head, my knees were bent, ready to jump. I leaped backward, sinking in the water. I stayed under for a few more seconds with my eyes open, looking at my siblings splashing underwater. Then, I came up for air, climbing the ladder, doing it all over again. I dried off later so that I could get ready for the festival. It was taking place in the evening, so it would cool down, but not much. The temperature would still be in the lower 80s, so I had to dress for the occasion. I decided on wearing my denim shorts and a t-shirt. My family saw some friends. My older brother, Jase, saw his friend and his parents, so we went over to greet them. After a few minutes, my dad got a phone call. I assumed it was a conference call, but after a while, his eyes started filling up with tears. Dad never cried, so I knew something was wrong. My parents were talking in hushed tones, looking at Jase's friend's family from time to time. I remember it so vividly, the tears carving paths down Mom and Dad's faces, me crying because I was scared. “Annabelle, you and your siblings will be staying with the Keith's for the rest of the night, and we'll pick you up later, okay? Something bad has happened.” I can hear Mom's voice, but nothing else. What could have happened that was so bad? I nodded, and went with Jase and his friend, making sure my younger siblings followed. I was walking further and further away from the shrinking family I have. I was walking with a normal family, with normal kids. I couldn't help but wipe my tears away, hoping I'd fit in with such an average group. For once, I wish I could live in the land of statistics and averages, just so I didn't have to feel my hands shaking. So I didn't have to feel the hot acid escaping my eyes. I tried to have a good time at the festival, but all I could think about was the sorrow in Mom's eyes. I lurked in the shadows, watching as Jase laughed. How could he laugh when there is sorrow beside him? I wasn't mad, but I remember being confused, anxious, and scared. Why was Jase laughing? When we arrived at the Keiths' house, I followed Jase and Grason out to the trampoline in Grason's backyard. I got on the trampoline and started bouncing, hoping I could laugh and be as carefree as Jase and Grason. Soon enough, I was laughing and smiling as if nothing was wrong. Oh, how easy it was to smile like that. My face was carved into a grin and glowed brightly as a Jack-O-Lantern. I felt guilty for laughing. How could I be happy when something tragic has happened? I had a gut feeling that someone had passed away, but I didn't know who, and I didn't know how. I went back inside and watched TV while sitting on the couch. I saw Kenzie and Elijah playing with the dogs. It was all okay. It was close to 10 pm when my Aunt Sarah came to pick us up and take us home. Mom and Dad were not yet home, so she made sure all of us were safe and under the roof we were used to living under. Aunt Sarah called us all into the living room, and she tried to break the news to us gently. “Have you been worried about Josh?” She asked tentatively. Josh is my Dad's youngest sibling and my uncle. "Josh died. He passed away earlier today.” I saw tears in Jase's eyes, and I had tears running down my face. None of us had expected such a sudden death for such a young person. He was only in his 30s. What had he done to deserve such a horrid end? The next morning I had asked Mom how Josh died, and she said she didn't want to tell me at the moment. I understood that, seeing that the information was still so fresh and that everyone in my family was pretty close to him. “Annabelle,” Mom came into my room a few hours later“Josh committed suicide.” Josh purposely killed himself, shot himself in the head, just to escape his being on Earth. I wept as I held on to that thought. He died on PURPOSE. Suicides happen all the time. I was aware that some people wanted to die, I never thought it would be Josh. He was always there for me when I hit my lowest lows. He always listened when I needed to vent. He was my hero. I guess even heroes have to die sometimes.

When there are so many problems in the world, let us not make things worse. And there are no preconditions for self-development here, to be honest, sometimes one wants to fall into a lethargic dream or constantly yawn (which is indecent in a civilized society) from these strange speeches, where people are trying to find motivation. What can be funnier and sadder at the same time, where a healthy person full of strength and energy, afraid of taking risks, making mistakes and winning, is trying to find non-existent instructions for his life? That's absurd. Do not search for what you already know in your heart. Slowing down and laziness are almost the most useless things in the world. At least, boring so precisely. Well, when we have figured out the nuances that will be discussed in this letter, or rather, these is not here — let's begins. P.S. You have to read out loud to put a point. How little time is given to us to think about it after all? Stop with your eyes covered, breathe fresh air and just think. Preferably about the past, because it's the only thing that defines you now. I think the connection between us was formed the first time we met. This woman, descended from the pages of her favorite Victorian novels, was exactly like the heroines at the English court. Intelligent enough, mysterious enough, known her own value. She wasn't a great beauty, but she didn't need it. She had much more — a bright, blinding light — the fire to life, which made me, young, reach out to him. “You have to reread what you've written out loud three times, and only then you have to put a dot.” “There must be a mystery in a woman that will give a man a field for imagination.” She was not just my teacher of literature, no, rather a spiritual mentor, brought up in me something that I thought I could not possess.I was always fascinated by her her dazzling love of language and literature. The way she could forget the time, telling a poem of her favorite poet in 3 languages or with rapture read an excerpt from “The Master and Margarita”. She wanted to bring her world to us and, unfortunately, not many of us were ready to accept it. It was the highest point of professionalism that everyone dreamed of achieving — to dissolve in what you do without fear of being misunderstood. If only you could attend one of her lessons, you would understand me. There is no better teacher in the whole world — that's my axiom. We didn't just read interesting stories about some characters, we lived a whole world woven from incredible crossroads, we immersed ourselves in the culture of that era and the country where the events took place, and we learned to think like those people, to understand their actions and to empathize with them. Everything that was going on in that office was like the entrance to Narnia: crazy magic.It was this woman who made me not just open up to something new and unknown, she made me believe that I could do it, she taught me to see things right and not be afraid to express my thoughts on paper, and I dare to think that what I was doing and writing, she liked it. The last time I saw her was at an event of some kind. She sat in the front rows, as always dressed up and beautiful. My best schoolteacher. How long has it been since... We didn't talk, but for 10 minutes I couldn't take my eyes off her, admitting and understanding that woman meant so much to me, so much that sometimes it got scary. The night I got my work, which was in her possession until she was fired from school, I was so terribly confused. I didn't know what to think. I was overcome by sadness at the thought that she didn't want to remember me or that I had unwittingly become a sad reminder of a job that was her whole life. I cried for an hour over those works, remembering in every detail the path I had taken. All those years trying to be her best student, imitating this woman, the greatest teacher, in a crazy race with time, I never understood what she had done for me. She saved me with these works for long-forgotten competitions. Even years later, reminding me who I am and what I really must do. Someone says that history should touch the reader, causing slight nausea and suffocation. It seems to be the same with people. At least that's what happened to me. Other people make us human. So look back and say “thank you” to that very person whenever you can. “How many words in the world and nonsense can't find the right 'thank you'. I am grateful for your faith and the crazy work you have done to show me the way to myself. Without knowing it, it was you who showed me what a determined look and an ever-burning heart means. I learned to fall in love with simple plots, reading the riddle between the lines, and to see the genius in a completely, at first glance, delusional phrases. As Heathcliff would say- “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” With love, warm regards, forever your student”.

I was then in my first year of college. I was in the hostel then. Since my college is so far away from my home, the “Titus” train can be called my endless ally. The “Titus” train's crowd is less in the evening and I prefer the train ride than the bus. So my journey on the train is more. The time was winter, it gave us a public holiday. So, I wanted to go home and for this I went to the station a little later in the evening. But the train will take too long to arrive, it is a very slow train. It was a bit foggy that day but it wasn't too cold yet. The train will be late, so I left the main platform to walk. As I walking, I saw a man walking with some blankets and his face was wrapped in a sheet. He is walking with some blankets in one hand and giving these blankets to the poor people in the station with the other hand. I was really surprised to see the man's work, the man is great, he is helping people. These blankets will really help the poor people in this winter season as they can not afford to buy any winter clothes due to a lack of money. And surprisingly, he is giving in such a way that people do not recognize him, Helping people behind the scenes is a really great thing. By letting the man act like him, I did not go forward. I went back to the main platform. The train has not arrived yet, and I need to stand on the platform waiting for the train. After a while, I saw the man wrapped in a sheet coming towards the main platform. Standing alone at the station is very annoying. I had to look at something unnecessarily, so from a distance, I looked at the man, when the man was coming towards the platform, his face was not so covered, the sheet was slightly removed from the man's face. As soon as the man came in front of me, I tried to see his face, I was surprised to see his face well.I think it's our Popel sir, I saw it again, yes, He is my teacher popel sir. I was really surprised to see this, he is my teacher who used to give advice to help people in class and he is not just sitting on advice, he is doing it himself. That is so great. Then I was wondering whether I should go and call Sir or not, but I did not call and talk to sir because I should let him do what he wants to do in silence. But one thing I learned that day is that our teachers are not just teachers of books, The moral lesson I learned that day to help people through Sir's work is not to be forgotten, nor will I ever be forgotten.

THE TEACHER There was once a small school, located right within the heart of a small yet endlessly flowery prairie. It was not something flamboyant, only a timid marriage of rocks and bricks, happily constructed and designed to serve as a cover for our heads, when it was raining or when the sun was attacking us with his love rays. That school only had one teacher, and its sole students was me and another girl. We were not always the best example of students, usually coming without having done our daily homework, or with albeit adequate preparation for our courses; though we always wanted to attend, because the teacher always had something new to present to us. He had his special way to make us feel right at home, his speech was magical, his manners were impeccable, his presence being monumental to our very souls. I can still remember the day he told us that we humans, are equal to the other beings of nature, and that we are the only ones who have the need to go to school, because we have to train ourselves to be polite and generous, whilst the other animals are being grateful from birth. At first, I was scratching my head when I tried to decode his message, but now that I am old enough, I know he was right. Another day, we were trying to do an exercise in mathematics. The girl right next to me, was excelling at it, and proudly answered with haste his questions, smiling cheerfully to his beaming visage. I was not doing so good, stuffed with stress and anxiety that I would probably fail. In the end, I also answered, but what surprised me was him announcing us that we both passed with flying colors. “But, we made very different choices and picked diametrically opposite answers mr. Alex” I told him. “How can this be possible?” The teacher left us speechless. “Every answer is a matter of perspective, my boy” said the teacher. “For example, your colleague wrote that 1+1 =2, which is correct, I ‘ll wager. I have to admit, though, that you, son, advocate that I+I = II, which is also right. Either you write that as 2, or as 11, I am only interested that you support your thoughts with zeal and reason. That is the meaning of life”, he pointed at us. Some other day in the calendar, he took us up to the hills that were overlooking the great blue lake of our village. His eye color was identical with that of the lake. The vista was mesmerizing, both in his eyes and in the scenery, and his teaching was so soothing in our hearts. He told us that we must love our family, and honor our mother, for she was the towering of our future, and would always be there for us. We took heed and as we walked back to our class, he stopped us and kneeled in front of us. “Take a flower from me, and put it each in your pockets, and when you go back to your mother, give it to her as a present, as I can't do that. Please remember that she is the garden with the roses, and you are the raindrops of water that this garden so desperately needs to flourish”. That afternoon, we returned home filled with joy, and sadness as well. Joy because we realized that the teacher was right, and we hugged our mother like octopuses that stick to a submerged anchor. She also seemed delighted to see us act like that. But, as our hands reached our pockets, we realized the roses were not actually there, at least in physical form. That is, because our teacher, was ethereal, invisible. What that means? In fact, he was not a teacher, but a captain. That was his real-life profession. But having sailed over all the corners of the earth, he always had great deeds to tell us. And, because our school needed a teacher, he gladly offered to be our teacher. Well, our school, that harmonious amalgamation of stones, bricks and a handful of concrete, in reality was our home. The girl next to me in class, my colleague, was my sister. And what about that captain, then? Who was he? That moustache wielding champion, was our father, who passed away years ago. However, his ethics and lessons were still following us, and his presence was right next to us, watching us over. His reign as a king to our hearts will still live on, and we will never forget him, as he captained our lives with wisdom and honor. A teacher, is a beacon of light and hope. We all need a teacher. We all need a father. Our father. And he was the best teacher of them all.

Good Evening Everyone! I hope you like the picture. This is my little guy Bonzo. He is 4 years old and very smart. He's very loving and compassionate towards me. He is quite the tea lover (Earl Grey and English Breakfast seem to be his favorites)and soon he will meet his new mate D'Aff N'aia. I am hoping to get her through the summer sometime and will surely post when she's here. I can't wait for her. She will be spoiled too! Best Regards, Julie Ann