By Shaina Wolff, the Bais Rivka Grapevine
There’s not a lot I remember about First Grade, but my teacher will forever be in my heart.
I was not one of those typical kids that would sit in their seat and listen to every word the teacher said.
Morah Bruk, however, was the one who led me through one of the most important years of my life. I don’t remember the way she taught us how to write the ABC’s but I do remember the cute stickers we got at the top of the page for our good work.
There is a special incident that I remember from First Grade; looking back I realize that Mrs. Bruk knew a whole lot about what mattered to a First Grader.
It was during recess that a girl in my class was making fun of my last name, telling me that a wolf is a kind of animal, not a name. It seems trivial now, but back then, it was a big deal. I was very hurt, as any six year old would be.
When Mrs. Bruk came in and saw how upset I was, she calmed me down and told me not to think about what the other girl had said. A little girl was insulted, and Morah not only noticed, but she took time to comfort me. To her, it wasn’t trivial.
I remember going to Mrs. Bruk’s house on Purim to bring her a Shalach Manos basket. I was dressed up as a clown. I’d say probably half her students had on the same costume as me. But she nevertheless went on and on about how cute I looked, and made me feel like a million dollars.
Sometimes, we little kids would accidentally call our teachers “Mommy.” Everyone would always giggle when that happened, but I can easily imagine why such a mistake would happen so often in Mrs. Bruk’s class.
She once told me how lucky she was to have me as a student and a neighbor. (Let me remind you that I was not the easiest student.) You can’t imagine how special I felt.
After the year was over, Mrs. Bruk didn’t forget about me. When I would see her in the street she would stop and ask me about Second Grade and tell me how big I got.
Morah Bruk, I’m writing on behalf of every First Grader that you nurtured with love. You cared so much about every one of us; I’m sure every Bais Rivkah girl you taught will never forget the privilege they had to be your student.
Morah Bruk, you taught us that it’s going to be the little little kinderlach who will make Moshiach come, but we’re not such little kinderlach anymore. Tell Hashem that your students were promised they would bring Moshiach, and He can’t wait until they get any older.