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By Ron Wenn and Nancy J. Cavanaugh
The note I picked up from my mailbox at school read, "Call Margaret at 555-6167." Both the name and number were unfamiliar to me, but as a high-school automotive instructor, I got calls all the time from people who were looking for someone to fix their cars. During my lunchtime at school that day, I dialed the number.
"I'm calling for a Margaret," I said.
"Yes, this is Margaret," a voice answered.
"This is Ron Wenn. I have a message here that says to call you," I continued, all the while wondering what kind of car trouble this woman had.
"Oh, I'm glad you called. If you'll just give me a few minutes of your time, I have something to tell you that I think you'll be interested in hearing."
"All right," I answered looking at the clock. I only had a few minutes before I needed to be back in class.
"I'm a nurse at St. Luke's Presbyterian Hospital, and yesterday on my way home from work I was driving down 290 when my car started acting up."
"Uh huh," I said looking at the clock again.
"It was late at night, and I was alone. I was so afraid to pull over, but finally my car just quit, so I coasted to the shoulder. I sat there for a few minutes wondering what to do."
I didn't want to sound impatient, but I really needed to get back to class. "Would you like me to take a look at your car, ma'am?" I asked.
"Just let me finish," the woman answered.
I tapped my pencil on the stack of papers in front of me as Margaret continued her story. "Suddenly, two young guys, about twenty years old, pulled up behind me and got out. I didn't know what these guys were going to do. I was so scared.
"They asked me what happened, and they said that from the sound of things that they might be able to get the car running again, so I popped the hood.
"I sat in the car praying that these guys weren't up to no good. A few minutes later, they yelled at me to try to start the car. I couldn't believe it! It started right up! The guys slammed the hood and told me the car would be fine but that I should take it somewhere soon and get it checked out."
"And you'd like me to take a look at it and make sure everything's okay, right?" I asked.
"No, not at all, just listen," the woman went on. "I was so grateful. I thanked them over and over and offered them money, but they wouldn't take it. That's when they told me they were former students of yours."
"What?" I asked in surprise. "Students of mine? Who were they?"
"They wouldn't tell me. They just gave me your name and the school's number and made me promise to call to thank you."
I couldn't believe it. I didn't know what to say. Besides teaching my students about fixing cars, I always tried to teach them things about life - about going the extra mile, being honest and using what you know to help other people. The thing is I never really knew if the students learned any of this.
"Mr. Wenn, are you still there?" Margaret asked.
"I'm still here," I answered.
"Well, I hope you know how grateful I am," Margaret said.
"I hope you know how grateful I am to you, Margaret. Thanks for calling," I said and hung up the phone.
I walked back to class feeling inspired with the knowledge that my students had helped someone because of what I taught them in my classroom. I had just gotten the greatest reward a teacher could ever get.
Marilyn L. Ali
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