Victoria P., Magsig Middle School
Be Like Him
When I was younger, my favorite pastime was writing. I would stay up late, sprawled out on my couch, scribbling down page after page for my next big story. I had countless ideas and thoughts about my life that I wanted to express, and writing brought me an outlet. When there was a writing assignment at school, I did anything but stint on my efforts. My bug-eyed classmates would ask me how I could write three pages in forty-five minutes, and I would just shrug my shoulders, a mischievous smile on my face. Writing was my passion, and that was because of Mr. Llewellyn.
Mr. Llewellyn was my fourth grade teacher, and he was beloved by all. He towered over all of his students, sporting a giant watch on his wrist and small circular glasses. His huge grin was contagious, and when you walked into his classroom you would feel so welcome. He was rumored to be one of the best teachers in the building.
One day, he had instructed us to write a twisted version of a fairy tale, and with a charismatic simper, he asked us to do the best we could. The class was so excited to finally write their very own stories.. But I had an overwhelming feeling of dread. Years of bullying had left me defeated and low-spirited, and I worried that I could never make anything good like my other classmates. And so, I did what any other nervous ten year old would do. “Is this good enough?” I kept asking Mr. Llewellyn. “Is it okay?” “Did I do something wrong?”
My anxiousness slowly turned to relief as he calmed me down, and gave me amazing writing tips. Afterwards, I was beaming with pride, because I knew that my work was in fact good enough.
I spent the rest of that week revising that writing piece until it was one of the best things that my fourth-grade mind could conjure. Mr. Llewellyn ecstatically stated that it was one of the best stories he had read from someone so young. He suggested that I read it to the class, and, keen to share the best story I’ve ever written, I read it with as much expression and interest as I could. The words rolled off my tongue like falling leaves, and as I stood proud in the front of the classroom, I knew my passion and motivation for writing would continue for a very, very long time.
As corny as it sounds, Mr. Llewellyn really helped me come out of my shell. He was very encouraging, and it was awesome to be praised for what I loved doing. He was undoubtedly a jubilant man that loved to help others. It made me realize that in order to live a happy life, you had to help others live a happy life. Be like Mr. Llewellyn, and treasure the value of giving. It may come back to you someday.
