My teacher in fifth and sixth grade was Ms. Phyllis Freeman.
I think she was the first person to teach me to use Ms. She created a new grade for me, A-WD – “A With Distinction” because I’d gotten too many A++s. Whenever we asked if we could borrow her tape to fix our papers in class, she’d give us the tape, and then she’d come back to us ten minutes later to ask us for the tape back, because we’d asked to “borrow” it. She taught us modal verbs using the phrase, “I can, I may, I will, I shall, I must love my teacher.
I loved my teacher.
And I think she loved me.
Then when I was in sixth grade, and my life imploded, she somehow figured out, and she went out of her way to protect me and to actively love me more.
I don’t remember how or when I began to call her “Mom” (not around any of the other kids, of course), but I did. I don’t know if she knew, or how she might have known, that my mother had left us, but she stepped in to be my mom. She gave me extra hugs and affection, perhaps trying to fill my void and my need for hugs and affection.
When I spoke loving of the Unification Church, she never corrected me or chastised me. When the other kids made fun of me or questioned me after I praised Rev. Moon while presenting a New York Times article about his speech at Madison Square Garden, she quieted them or redirected the conversation.
And when I wrote a passionate essay about the beauty and joy of a weekend workshop at the Church’s estate in Barrytown, New York, her written comment on my essay was “The Unification Church is very lucky to have a loving member like you belong to it!”
How she was able to remove what must have been her disapproval of the Church and of my mother’s (and my) involvement from her interactions with me, I’m not sure. How she was able to treat me with love and kindness when she must have wanted to wrest me from the situation, the surroundings, and the people whom were taking over my mind. She had known me (and my mother) during fifth grade and must have watched in horror when I returned to sixth grade, having found the Messiah during the summer, a changed person with changed beliefs.
And yet all she did was love me. And protect me. And teach me not to “borrow” tape. I wish I could find her to thank her personally.
Thank you Ms. Freeman wherever you are.
I’d love to hear your thoughts, and please share this post with others if it resonates with you!
How wonderful that you had such an awesome lady in your life during a time when you needed someone like her the most.
Maybe you’ve already explored every avenue, but if you had other teachers at that school with more unusual last names you might be able to track her down through them. Some of my old teachers who aren’t on social media I’ve been able to find photos of because I remembered the names of their children. If she’s still living I hope you can find her.
Thank you Sharon! I have looked, and you’ve inspired me to look again.
This is very touching, Lisa. If she was a young woman at the time, she may still be alive. Most of the teacher’s associations/ local unions, keep track of their retired teachers. If you have not done so already, try the Milburn Teachers’ Association, or its equivalent.
Well, she didn’t seem young to me 🙂 I have tried that, and I’ll try again!
Thanks sharing such a beautiful story.
I believe a beautiful story provides us with an opportunity to find the meaning for our life.
Thank you Ken!