A belated thank you

I walked into my gym recently and saw an elderly man with a familiar face. I checked with Ryan, the staff member behind the counter. 'Is that Dr Stewart*?' 'Oh, you mean John? Yes, John Stewart. He's here with his wife. He had a stroke a while back and is working on his rehab.'

Many years ago I enrolled as an internal student at UQ to finish my Arts degree, after juggling studying from home with a toddler. I had given PE teaching away and had moved into my second subject area, English, and wanted to build up my knowledge base. I enrolled in an American Literature subject, and Dr Stewart was the lecturer, as well as turning out to be my tutor.

What an experience.

I had had reservations about going back to uni as a 'mature student'. I thought the brilliant young people would run rings around me. I needn't have worried. What I discovered was, in my early thirties I actually had some life experience and perspective, and this really enhanced my English studies. But the real discovery was Dr Stewart. He was passionate about his subject, and that passion was contagious. I loved his lectures and tutorials, and in subsequent semesters I enrolled in two more American literature subjects, with Dr S as my lecturer and tutor. He made one of the most sensible comments I have ever heard a teacher make:

'You have so many novels to read this semester, you'll never get through all of Moby Dick. If you read these chapters, you'll be fine'

God bless you, Dr S.

© wetcanvas

I did extremely well in all of his subjects, but more importantly, I got my confidence back. What I learned in Dr S's classes I took into my English classes. And suddenly, here was a chance to tell him what he meant to me, twenty-five years later.

I went over to the elderly man. 'Hello, Dr Stewart, you won't remember me but I was in your American Literature lectures and tutorials at UQ. I just wanted to say how much I loved being in your class, and to thank you for all you did for me.' Dr Stewart became a little flustered and embarrassed as he struggled to speak. 'What is your name?' he asked, and I told him, but added that I didn't expect him to remember me. He smiled, and said it was nice to meet me again and to hear that I had enjoyed his classes.

I haven't seen Dr Stewart again but I hope he continues to recover from his stroke. I was on a high for the rest of the day after meeting him, and I tried to work out why. I wonder if it's because so often, we don't get the chance to thank the people who do the most for us. Sometimes we don't realise how much difference they've made until many years later.

And would you believe it, not long after this encounter I bumped into one of my former students, Lauren, in the produce department at Coles. Now she was a lovely young mum, with a gorgeous baby sitting grinning in the baby seat of her trolley. 'Mrs Greatorex!' she shouted as she hugged me. We spent a few minutes catching up, admiring her little girl, Lily, and then Lauren told me, 'I became an English and History teacher because of you. I was hopeless at English until I had you as my teacher, and I tell my students that they can do well, and that it only needs one teacher to make the difference, because that's what happened to me.'

Lauren and Lily

I had goose bumps. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel flattered, but here was a spontaneous comment from a chance encounter, that told me that I had made a difference to someone. I thought back to my meeting with Dr Stewart. I'm so glad that I had the chance to say thank you.

*Not his real name