Remembering Mrs. Sargent
Helen Sargent passed away recently. She was a kindergarten teacher for over 1,000 kids during her long teaching career. I was one of her students in 1958-1960. When my mother left me with her on my very first day ever of school, I cried my eyes out. Mrs. Sargent dried my tears while telling me how much fun I was going to have there.
And we had fun. We learned things, played a lot, and we grew plants. She let us take naps with our own little blankets, and she poured orange juice into our own personal little cups every day for us to drink. She washed our cups for us afterward.
Mrs. Sargent had a problem with me though. After a couple of months in her class, I still refused to call her “Mrs. Sargent,” in spite of her trying to coax me to do so. I called her “Teacher.” Perplexed by my stubbornness, she finally asked me why I refused to honor such a simple request. I told her that she was nothing like a sergeant, who was a big, tough army man who yelled at soldiers to get them to fight.
No, Mrs. Sargent was no sergeant. She was one wonderful kindergarten teacher.