Just this past week, I made a quick trip over the big mountain and down the other side of the Great Continental Divide to my old home in south central Kansas. It seemed kind of weird this time, you know? For the very first time in all of those trips going between here and there, I no longer had my old house to go to and stay for the night. I have never worried before about where I would lay my head at night or grab a quick shower after having been on the road for over 600 miles to get there. Thankfully I didn't have to be concerned about whose house I would head to because my dear sister-in-law Paula was waiting for my arrival in my hometown of Haven, about 15 miles east of Hutchinson. To Paula and my wonderful nephew Christopher, I am most grateful.
On Thursday I had plenty of errands to do in Hutch so I woke up early and got back on the road. My belly was telling me "time to eat something" and so I stopped off at Yoder's very famous Carriage Crossing Restaurant. It was early enough that the morning crowd had not yet begun to arrive so I basically had my choice of where to sit. I love that place, having eaten there countless times over the past twenty years or so. It felt great to walk inside and capture the smell of good food cooking in the kitchen. I ordered my "usual" there, two hard poached eggs, toast, and coffee. LOTS of coffee.
Little did I know that just behind me in the traffic line on K-96 as it speeds from Haven to Yoder and lots of points beyond, that another person was heading for breakfast there as well. And when he arrived at the restaurant from his home in Haven, little did he know that there would be a woman inside from the "land of long ago and far, far away." I would say "Wow, now that's a strange coincidence." Yet now I know differently. There are no coincidences in this life of ours. There are only things that are meant to happen. Things that are an integral part in the "plan" laid out for our lives.
"~upon finding Mr. Windsor~" was not an accident or the result of the randomness of our seemingly chaotic universe. It was meant to be."
When the man in the overalls walked by me last Thursday morning, I honestly didn't recognize him as anyone I had known in life before. I surely didn't think about him being one of my teachers from high school, now over 4 decades ago. Even when I heard the waitress call him by his name as she greeted him at his booth, I still wasn't positive that it was anyone I knew. I had a feeling that there couldn't be all that many men living in the area that could have been called by that name but could it really have been the one I knew? I still was in doubt until I heard his voice reply back, "I'm fine thank you." And then, well then I knew. The man who had walked by me and was now sitting right behind me was none other than my old high school teacher for biology and earth science classes. It was Wayne Windsor.
The years have a way of changing us a tiny bit in our appearance and I wasn't even sure that Mr. Windsor would remember me. I mean for crying out loud, we had not seen one another since May of 1973 when I graduated from Haven. I knew that he still lived over in Haven but in all of my journeys back and forth, I had never come across him. Ever. Now he was sitting close enough to me that I could have reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. I thought it was him, in fact I was nearly 99% positive it was. I wondered if I should say something to him and equally thought about the fact that it might not have been the right man. I've done that before, you know? Thought I knew someone and it ended up being a total stranger instead of someone that I used to know. But I had come 611 miles in the trip to get here and after receiving a giant "thunk upside my head" from God above, a sign that I should at least make the effort to say hello to him, I did. It was Mr. Windsor and I am so glad to have had the chance to meet him once again.
I told him who I was and that I thought he may well have been my science teacher in high school for two years. He looked at me a moment and a big smile came upon his face. He did remember me. In fact, he recalled that I was his classroom aide during my senior year. Mr. Windsor gave me the dearest of compliments as he told me I was a nice girl who was always cooperative. You know what? Those words meant a lot to me to hear from a man who remembered my days as a young girl growing up in the best hometown a kid could ever want to be from. We visited for a while and I told him that I too had become a teacher. He was happy to hear that and said that I would be a good one. The next ten minutes of our lives were spent remembering the days gone by as well as how things were going for the present. All too soon, it was time for me to head out but before I left I found a waitress who was willing to take our picture.
As I left and drove the 10 miles further north into Hutch, I thought about what had just happened to me and to Mr. Windsor as well. As a kid growing up, we were taught to have respect for all of our teachers. Our folks were pretty much sticklers on that one. You didn't have to like your teacher but you did need to respect them. You didn't have to love the subject being taught but it was necessary to learn it. I just remember that our parents instilled that in us from kindergarten onward to our senior year of high school. I always liked Wayne Windsor as my teacher and I did have a lot of respect for him. But you know, I wasn't really crazy about science. It was hard for me to understand and what I didn't understand at the time, really didn't appeal to me. I didn't pop out of bed every morning and say to myself~
"Hurray! Another school day has begun and I get to go and learn more about biology and earth science."
Guys like Wayne Windsor had this way of making even people like little Peggy Scott learn about a subject that was kind of tough for some of us. If I could take a look back at my Haven High School transcript from now over four decades ago, I'm not sure what my science grades would have even ended up being recorded as. I am positive that I didn't receive any "A"s but you know, I didn't fail them either. My guess is that I would have fallen somewhere in the B- to C+ range and for a kid that absolutely hated learning much about science, I'd say that was pretty good. I admire Mr. Windsor for his love of science and as I reflect back on my two years in his classroom, I recall how helpful he was to kids like me who really didn't have much of a clue sometimes. He never made me feel as if I was "less of student" because it was a tough subject. Wayne Windsor brought us all along~ the gifted in science and the not so gifted. With a smile on my face and in my heart, I acknowledge being in the "not so gifted" group. He took us from the points where we were at and worked from there. Now that my friends, is the mark of a good teacher.
The strange thing about all of this is that today I actually have learned to love science. It's fun to read about things that as a 16-year old I found to be most boring. As a teacher now beginning year #37, I'm trying to instill the love of science to all my students as well. Come to think of it, I now believe that Wayne Windsor planted a seed in my thinking that in the years to come would allow me to understand that science wasn't all that bad after all. Science is life and since I love life, then it's ok to love science too. Thanks Mr. Windsor :)
I've lost track long ago of the number of students I have had the privilege to teach. When I am 81 years old, I wonder if anyone might recognize me. Will they know my voice? Will they care enough about having known me to come over and take the chance to say~
"Pardon me. You look so familiar. Is there a chance that you were my teacher once?"
Man, I sure do hope so.
That Kansas farm girl was quiet and shy. She loved reading, writing, and speaking Spanish but wasn't all that good with math and science. From the "land of long ago and far, far away"~
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