Her gentle but firm encouragement when I timidly gave an answer gradually brought me out of my shell. I guess I started to look for ways to impress her and hear more ‘good girl!’s coming from her.

Oh, and those gold stars and the smiley faces she stuck and drew in my exercise books were the icing on the angel’s food cake.

She loved to read what we got up to during the weekends. Not really just to teach us story writing but I think out of a genuine feeling of missing us. For a time, ninety percent of the class were clueless and when on Monday  mornings they were asked to write their ‘News’ the staple was a paragragh, two at most, revolving around sentences like “I went to town with my parents” or ” Sunday I went to church”.

Mondays and Fridays were the best for me. I would easily write at least eight pages of ‘News’ in my little A5 exercise book while taking endless trips to the teacher’s desk to ask how to spell fancy words to please Mrs.Phillipson.

She made me want to write something interesting for her to read. Even if I was making it all up!I began filling up my ‘News’ books fast and the gold stars wouldn’t stop coming. That’s when my classmates decided to catch on and mob the teacher with requests for spellings-even the ones they already knew.

Monday was also when she’d give us a list of about thirty words to learn over the week in preparation for the other sweet day-Friday. It was spelling- bee day. Everyone got a turn to go to the board and write out a word she’d call out from the list. For every correct word, she threw a Zuggy at you.

That was a good thing. Zuggys were fruity, chewy candy with lovely rainbow color wrappers. Mrs Phillipson would have a two-pound bag of them sitting on her mumu-clad lap. What an ingenious way to get children to read! After all, aren’t the benefits of education and learning supposed to be…sweet?

Those Zuggys also helped usher a large number of us through a rite of passage by giving many already loose and shaky milk teeth the final push and into the tooth fairy’s hands. Fridays progressively turned us from grubby fingered little Neanderthals asking to go out to play every five minutes to inquisitive minds learning and absorbing about everything around them and reporting it intelligently.

I always managed to end up as the last one standing at the board. With a pile of Zuggys at my feet- I was never good at catching things and ball games frightened me. Since the spelling-bee was the last lesson of the day, I’d usually start the weekend off on a good vibe of sweet success.

I had an experience of a lifetime in the three months I was with Mrs Phillipson.

She was the ultimate teacher because she gave me a new start and focused on my strengths. She never harried me in Math which wasn’t my strength but expected me to work magic with words -and nothing less. Mrs Phillipson taught me there was a story in me. Always! It was my duty to tell it, to share it.

Too many people go through life uncertain of their future and bewildered , not knowing what they are good at or receiving any affirmation . When we’re young we spend a great chunk of our lives in school being molded into the reality we will walk out in our later years.

I have looked back to the beginning for my inspiration and I am convinced that yes, I do have a story to tell. Yes, I can tell it.For too many children it’s unfortunate that teachers don’t come like Mrs Phillipson anymore. I remember her love, dedication to duty and excellence and I honor it.

And I remember those Zuggys!