What We Do for the Least of These Matters the Most

Touching Story.  The story is not actually true, but it makes a great point and allows us to know the impact of what we do as well as the impact of children in our lives.  I know my children as well as my foster children show me life in a clear, fresh, "I can do anything" sort of way.  Just thought I would share. I think the story makes us all think regardless of the fact that it is a work of fiction.  There are too many similar true stories not to get the point of why it was written. What we do matters!  What we do to the least of these matters most. My story afterwards is true. Every bit of it.

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth.  Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath.  In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.  It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big 'F' at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last.  However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh.  He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around..'

His second grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.'

His third grade teacher wrote, 'His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken.'

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school.  He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class.'

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself.  She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's.  His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.  Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents.  Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume.  But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.  Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, 'Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.'

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour.  On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic.  Instead, she began to teach children.  Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy.  As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive.  The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded.  By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her 'teacher's pets..'

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy.  He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors.  He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came.  This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further.  The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had.  But now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story does not end there.  You see, there was yet another letter that spring.  Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married.  He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.  Of course, Mrs. Thompson did.  And guess what?  She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing.  Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, 'Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me.  Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.'

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back.  She said, 'Teddy, you have it all wrong.  You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference.  I didn't know how to teach until I met you.'

(For you that don't know, Teddy Stoddard is the Dr atIowa Methodist in Des Moines that has the Stoddard Cancer Wing.) This has been proven FALSE on SNOPES.  The point is still worth repeating!

Random acts of kindness, I think they call it!

Today I was tired.  Tired of cleaning the kitchen, tired of cooking meals for fussy toddlers after church.  I just wanted to go to a real restaurant like I had money to spend and kids who would sit and behave.  Problem was, we don't have any extra money at all, and we have kids who have tough pasts and are at tough ages to go to restaurants.  We threw all of those facts to the wind and convinced 2 family friends to go to lunch.  They have the same stories, different verses.   Kids adopted from foster care, one building a house on a budget so they can add additional children and one who has had a husband out of work until recently.  We went where we knew we could share food and fill up on chips and tortillas and we asked to be put outside to keep from disturbing too many people.  We were thrilled to be in the fantastic weather and thrilled to have somewhat adult conversation ...with 13 children between us (several were missing) with 6 children 5 and under.  We have all had some tough battles in the last year.  Tough kid things, tough financial battles.  People, when your salary has been cut in half, 2 of your 3 cars are 14 and 15 years old, and your house hasn't sold after a year.  We're talking AC going out and no hope of repairing it, one child potentially needing another surgery, another one with a broken hearing aid, loosing one of your dearest friends and his 5 year old son and watching the grief of the family.  Well, let's stop there.  It's too much to take in at once. The joys are plentiful too, but sometimes the tough stuff consumes even the joy.

Fast forward to lunch.  It was a hard road just to get there.  Just lunch.  Something we used to take for granted.  Something we did easily and without thought.  Not today.  Today was big and today would cost some re-arranging of budget and cause some setbacks.  We explained to the children what was appropriate to order to keep the cost down and not one complained.  It was perfect weather and sitting outdoors was a joy. We juggled between tables making sure children were behaving and managed to actually have adult conversations.  When it came time to pay, the waitress replied that our ticket had been taken care of.  All of it. Every last bit. For all of us.  We stared at each other and each person fought back tears.  What?  Paid for our lunch?  For the families with the large number of children, the ones who may or may not be able to sit still?  The families trying hard to eat and laugh as if the price of the meal wasn't a stretch at this particular time? Yep. None of us knew what to say.  None of us could move for a moment.  When we finally began our journey to the car it was just almost too much.  The joy, the act of kindness to us....was a way for God to use someone else to hug us and tell us that we are loved.  That we matter.  That what we do is important even though it is messy and not always a joy for others......ie...our kids misbehaving (they actually were quite good....today).  My day was brighter, my thoughts were better, my spirits were lifted.

May God bless them in a mighty way.  Mightier than they blessed us.  Their gift was bigger than they think.