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The traces we leave

There has been a blog post overdue, and I am finally in the mood to write it.

As most of you know, I am a language teacher, but for the past five years I have also been the head of one specific class – it meant I was there for their needs and the first one parents, colleagues and students came to when something came up. I also signed and was responsible for every report they got. 😉

These five years have been stressful for me, as I tend to take responsibility seriously and do not do things half-heartedly. Five years is a long time and include a ski week, a trip to Malta and one to Barcelona to organize and survive (i.e. bring them all back in one piece), a hiking trip with an overnight stay to remember, and countless occasions which made me roll my eyes, either in desperation or in amusement. Mostly, I have loved to see many of the 26 individuals in this class grow and enjoyed being part of their way until graduation this June. (Thus I wrote each of them a postcard with a customised text to express my gratitude and wishes… mamma mia!)

Last week this class received their school-leaving certificate in a formal ceremony (seated one meter apart, though), with our headmaster being the moderator. When I handed some of my favourite students their certificate, saw their huge grins and proud faces, I was really proud and moved.


Afterwards, we had dinner in the lovely garden of a restaurant, with candles flickering, good food and drinks and a really warm atmosphere. Nostalgically, once it was darker and they had loosened up, some of them told stories about me or events that happened to them, situations when I had made whatever kind of impression. I felt sad all of a sudden when it became really clear, for the first time, that our time together had come to an end. Many students I liked a lot, so I was sorry to let them go in the big world.

While I was listening to their stories, laughing at them, I fondly realized, that I have touched some of them, too. I remembered some situations they remembered, but from a totally different perspective. Moments and conversations we had had that for them were crucial, memorable, important or influential, had not had the same effect on me. It made me smile to know I have had a role in their lives, as they had in mine, and I appreciate the gift of sharing they have given me.

I wish for them to find their way, and to spread their wings and fly.

Author: carasmelody

daydreamer, hopelessly hopeful, I love the power of words, I love poems, words are soulfood

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