After all this time

In the weeks leading up to the written exams, one of our teachers made us come back on our regular free Wednesday afternoons and made us complete extra tests.

We weren’t happy about it; didn’t we spend enough hours in the classroom already?

“It’s for your own good,” he said. “You will benefit from it, trust me.”

He sounded like my mother. Whenever she said that something was for my own good it usually meant I had to do something that I hated.

So, while we could see the sunshine through the windows, and other students having fun in the park adjacent to the school, we were slaving away doing our bookkeeping assignment. Trying to finish as fast as possible didn’t make a difference. We were not to leave until the last student had finished. And the slowest ones were always subjects of frustration.

It usually took two long hours before we were dismissed and the sighs of relief could be heard in the other classrooms, I’m sure.

The exams rolled around and every one of us passed. The extra work had paid off, just as the teacher had promised. But we were too oblivious to give credit where credit was due.

Many years later it still comes to mind every now and then, and it still bothers me that I didn’t thank him personally for his effort. He did not just do his job; he went the extra mile because he really cared.

Here is a late “Thank you Mr. Duyker.” Not that it makes a difference. He must have passed away decades ago, but I still wanted to get it off my chest.