It has been three decades since you left.

I remember it all so vividly, the way you lit up your cigarettes in

front of us, the sound of the trees and the birds outside of the window, the sound of the bell, and my great
excitement to go to your class. I still remember the last period I had with you, the last bell, in a late
afternoon when you walked out the classroom’s door but never came back. It still hurts to think I will
never get to see you read another poem by Yeats, seems so unfair. I remember that although the rest of
the class seemed bored in that period, I came to love the poems you read. Every word felt special to me,
and what I felt in that class will never be forgotten, no matter how many decades pass by. Despite
detesting school, I always looked forward to your class, I looked forward to the precious books we would
read because the moments I spent reading them were truly special to me. My love for education started in
your class, 30 years ago, I fell in love with beautiful words, and pages full of meaning. You had a huge
impact on my life, and I will never be able to express how deeply grateful I am to you, for teaching me
things I will never forget. Although you are gone, the beautiful memories and emotions I felt still live.
The simple turning of a page became something exciting to me because of you, and I am enormously
thankful to you because of that. Your teachings will always live with me. The poems you read will always
remind me of who you were, of my love for the beautiful words written, and of the last bell, late
afternoon.