The List

One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of the

other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a

space between each name.

Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say

about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the

remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as

the students left the room, each one handed in the papers.

That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on

a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said

about that individual.

On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long, the

entire class was smiling. "Really?" she heard whispered. "I never

knew that I meant anything to anyone!" and, "I didn't know others

liked me so much," were most of the comments.

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew

if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it

didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The

students were happy with themselves and one another. That group

of students moved on.

Several years later, one of the students was killed in Vietnam

and his teacher attended the funeral of that special student. She

had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He

looked so handsome, so mature.

The church was packed with his friends. One by one those who

loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was the

last one. As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as

pallbearer came up to her. "Were you Mark's maths teacher?" he

asked. She nodded: "Yes." Then he said: "Mark talked about you a

lot."

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went together

to a luncheon. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously

waiting to speak with his teacher.

"We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet

out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed.

We thought you might recognise it."

Opening the wallet, he carefully removed two worn pieces of

notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded

many times. The teacher knew without looking that the papers were

the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of

Mark's classmates had said about him.

"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you

can see, Mark treasured it."

All of Mark's former classmates started to gather around. Charlie

smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in

the top drawer of my desk at home."

Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding

album."

"I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary." Then Vicki,

another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her

wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I

carry this with me at all times," Vicki said and without batting

an eyelash, she continued: "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for

Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that

life will end one day. And we don't know when that one day will

be. So treat each day like it will be THAT day.

-- Author Unknown