WHEN THE WINDS WHISPERED ME MY CALLING

I don’t
recall when
nor how early,
but my ears too,
heard the calling,
just as my mentors
did a generation earlier.

 
When I first heard the winds,
they whispered my name,
like a soothsayer,
reading my fortune,
through her crystal ball,
telling me my tale
for all my tomorrows.

 
She started sharing, 

“Your efforts, didn’t go wayside or go unnoticed.”

“You’ve been good with kids, of all ages and 

especially those with different abilities, pre-school and 

those like you, as demonstrated by your success 

working with them at your job. 

I believe you just found your own calling.”

In a sense,
without knowing,
albeit not in a classroom,
of an elementary school,
I, too became a teacher but
at the local YMCA and its
facility rich campus. 

This was the beginning
of what became my career.
of just over forty years,
my roles changed,
through varied
departments
and different
disciplines
and capacities.

I remained,
a teacher of
my own calling.
Whether
working in.
summer day camps
or
child care programs
or
in my
later years,
training the next generation,
in becoming part of this
international movement,
known simply, as the YMCA. 

Looking back,
my school days,
I coasted by many classes,
some just did enough for a pass,
even aced a few, where I favored either
a course or a teacher, or in a rare case, both. 

I remained lucky,
the hand I was dealt with,
resulted in a poker’s royal flush.
When it came to my teachers,
the greater than majority,
heard their calling early
and made learning fun
and taught in ways
beyond textbooks.

They answered without question,
dancing and singing to their joy,
knowing how to make that difference,
in teaching just one right lesson,
peaking a student’s interest,
who needs a helping hand,
finding their own way
with life’s struggle
not letting go of
their student’s
hand until
success
was met. 

My memory recalls, as I remember, always when asked,

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” 

Waving my hand to be the first one to say,
“I want to be a teacher!”
 

Just like them,
I wasn’t looking
for a short work day,
nor one with every holiday
then a full summer off with pay or,
sprinkled with more than a handful of
negotiated half days of work due to whatever.

I wanted to answer the calling,
heard by so many of my teachers,
so I can honor and thank them,
for their investment in me,
by my depositing my gift
on the next generation
of differently abled
learners whom
were just like
me in a way
or another. 

Each day,
I prayed and hoped
I was making a difference,
just like the ones did with me. 

I always wanted to be the one,
who sang my own song,
though I couldn’t sing a tune,
who danced my own dance,
though I own two left feet.
I always wanted to be the one,
cheering for the underdog,
reminding me, I was one too! 

I knew,
how to relate
and make the
connection
one student
at a time.

With the common denominators,
setting the stage for success,
uncovered hidden talents,
stayed present with me,
expanded my interests,
showed interest in me,
its only then they built
the foundation of
something larger
we created together. 

I still prayed and hoped,
in becoming a teacher,
then I was reminded,
I too, became a teacher
albeit not in school or
traditional classroom,
where a teacher’s desk
was replaced by a
playground and
outdoor field or
singing camp songs
on a bus to our next
summer camp trip.

When the day’s winds changed direction and felt warmer, 

the soothsayer returned, 

she shared her final words with me.
I leaned in,

listened to her whisper, 

once again, with an open ear.
 

With her final words, she thanked me and 

reflected on my yesterdays then reminded me, 

“Its time to take care of you, its time to reward yourself, 

its time for you to bring everything to a close. 

It’s time to pass the torch, 

just as it was done for you so many years earlier.”

I kept my promise,
I danced to my own song, with my two left feet.
Through my tear-soaked eyes,
seeing all the interest earned by my investments.
in the faces of many whose lives I impacted.

I left,
with them
laughing with me,
as they too,
chased their own calling,

as I heard them say in unison,
“Please don’t let Mr Robert sing!”
as I sang, my final and one last song.