Sam Zelitch
I had Mrs. Godden for first grade at Thomson School. I have a sweet memory to share. Every week, she would choose a student to take home her favorite stuffed bear Teddy. I remember he had big cartoonish cheeks and a sweatshirt, which I liked a lot. Mrs. Godden made it very clear how much responsibility this was. You had to take good care of Teddy — truthfully, it wasn’t clear what the consequences would be, but you didn’t want to find out. I was very nervous about my week to bring Teddy home. My parents were recently separated, and between my two homes I was always losing things. Sure enough, when my time came, I lost him. I cried and cried, afraid of what Mrs. Godden would think of me. My mom took me to CVS to find a replacement bear, but there was no one to replace Teddy. None of those bears were cool enough to wear clothes. All I could find was a basic bear, no sweatshirt, no cheeks, just a bear. He would have to do. I brought him back to class the next and (still crying) explained the situation to Mrs. Godden. She didn’t look upset. She grabbed the new bear out of my hands and asked what his name was. I didn’t have time to think, so I said, “Beary.” “He’s beautiful,” she said. Later that week, a note arrived on my desk, thanking me effusively for bringing Beary Bear to class. She said she knew he was going to bring so much joy to the other students. Instead of feeling like a failure, I felt special. Thank you, Mrs. Godden. This memory has been a blessing to me. May her memory be a blessing to all who knew her.
