Teacher of my heart,

*This year, just like every year, I have cried and probably will cry a lot more over the end of the school year. I decided to write something that would express at least some of my feelings for the incredible teachers who have blessed my children's lives thus far.

Please, forgive me for the inadequacy of the little wrapped package in my son's backpack this morning. I know you must have lotion and candles to last you several lifetimes.

I wish I could give you a gift worthy of the one you have given me. I wish I could give you a room full of trophies, ribbons and framed diplomas. Except, instead of commemorating degrees and honors, there would be one for every moment of triumph when a reading concept has clicked; one for each argument you have compassionately helped settle, one for every tear you've dried, and every confidence-restoring hug you've given.

I wish I could give you a crystal ball that you could look into and see my son as he moves through the defining moments of his life. The day he gets his driver's license; his first day of his first job; the first time he holds his very own baby. You will be there, in all of them, because of the imprint you've made on his heart in one short school year. You did more than teach- you valued, you encouraged, you inspired.

I wish I could give you a paycheck that could compensate for all the early mornings you would have rather stayed in bed; all the expensive sweaters you never bought, all the dinner party conversations that passed you by because your job was not high-powered or prestigious in the world's eyes. You saw beyond that. You chose to listen the voice inside you that said your life's work was the most important thing in the world- the work of nurturing, guiding and shaping human beings.

There were days and weeks that I was not what I should have been for my son, when I fell short in my fulfillment of the sacred duties of motherhood, and on those days you were there- a refuge, a safe harbor, a wise friend. Where my words of praise were taken for granted, yours rang truer because you didn't 'have' to love him, and his confidence has blossomed under your care.

Of course I know that no tissue-wrapped present can ever repay the sacrifices you've made and the gifts you've offered. There is only end-of-the-year present worthy of a beloved teacher, and you have that already. It's the pure love that only a child's heart can feel.

Thank you, from the bottom of my soul. Though his memories of you will blur with time, the love and acceptance you have shown him is a part of him now. And I will never forget that.