If it was me reading that title, I would have no idea who she was.

But if the title had been Helen Keller, I would have known immediately who Helen Keller was.

And maybe, after giving my subconscious enough time, I might have been able to piece together who Anne Sullivan was.

Anne Sullivan was Helen Keller’s teacher.

And every time I think about Helen Keller’s teacher, regardless of whether I remember her name or not, my mind stops.  It stops with almost the same kind of incomprehension that some spiritual things make my mind stop.

I remember my school teaching days, and I remember those times when a student of mine didn’t get the concept I was trying to teach.

Of course, being the teacher I aspired to be, I took time to reexplain the concept.  If my student still didn’t get it, I changed tactics, and started over again.  If, after that I still couldn’t get through to them, I sometimes asked one of their fellow students to explain it to them. 

I always felt frustrated with myself in those situations. 

Sometimes, I felt impatient with my student who wasn’t getting it. 

But if I did feel impatient, I was quickly reminded of those days I worked beside Mark at the local John Deere. 

He knew so much, and had so much experience, that sometimes I think he felt like the gap between what he knew and what I was trying to learn was insurmountable.  But he stood by me, and, if I have any mechanical abilities today, I credit him.

Anne Sullivan must have had similar qualities.  When I think of her patience, standing by the water pump for, how long?  And spelling the word ‘water’ into Helen’s palm over and over, well, this is where my mind stops.  Both in comprehending Anne’s patience, and the wall Helen had to scale to actually get to where those impressions in her palm made the smallest hint of sense. 

And, do you know what else?  A lot of the pictures of those two show Helen resting her head upon Anne.  She knew she wouldn’t be disappointed in any way, shape, or form by her mentor. 

Anne had developed an atmosphere of complete trust in which Helen could repose in.  She knew she could ask anything, and Anne would do her best to answer.  And if Anne didn’t know the answer, or if the school they were enrolled in together couldn’t find a way to get the answer, then they changed schools.

In essence, Anne spent her whole life pressing the word ‘water,’ into Helen’s hand.  Figuratively, of course, one it had been learned.

And her patience, care, and understanding love is what made her history’s best teacher. 

It’s August now. 

For many, school will be fully in motion by the end of this month.

There will be many new teachers stepping into their teacherhood for the first time. You will be scared.  You will be stressed out to the limit.  You will be continually tired.   

There will be seasoned teachers who may be tempted to take their job for granted; you may feel like it doesn’t take so much time and effort to be a good teacher.  You may be tempted to become impatient with the student who can’t seem to get it, forgetting the gulf of knowledge that separates you from them.

More than imparting the academics, more than getting better grades for your students, more than having the best polished flair among your sorority of teachers is this—

Patience.  Care.  Understanding love.

These. 

These will make you the best teacher, both for yourself and for your students.