I bought a copy of the children’s picture book A Letter to my Teacher (Deborah Hopkinson and Nancy Carpenter) while on book tour with the illustrator (Stacy Fabbre) of my own children’s book this summer. We were at a little pocket of an independent bookstore called Cover to Cover Books for Young Readers in an adorable neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio. I remember it well because of the mice incorporated into the label and decor. I was particularly taken with the little book-themed mouse figurines that appeared, here and there, on the shelves. My mother used to collect mice figurines, and the shelf above her coat rack still houses heaps of the adorable, though now dusty and discolored, little statues.

After our event, Stacy and I perused the shelves for a keepsake, as we do in every independent bookstore we visit. Immediately, right there on the center shelf of the children’s section where we had just read our book, was the image of my son’s 2nd-grade teacher, Ms. Janes. Somewhat amazed, I showed Stacy the book and pulled up a digital image I had of  Ms. Janes on my phone. Then I showed the bookstore’s shop assistant, and then the owner. I couldn’t get over the 'This Is Fate’ feeling and bought the book without even looking inside. I hesitated slightly at the higher-than-usual-for-me book price, but this was a gift for Ms. Janes, who was priceless. I vowed to leave it in her mailbox at the school the day after I returned (we only live a short walk away)...and it has been sitting on our foyer table ever since.

Last night, 12 hours before the first day of school, I made sure to put the book (and a little note explaining when and how I purchased it) in my son’s backpack.This morning, as I left him in his new 3rd-grade classroom, I grabbed the book out of his backpack, so I could immediately drop it off at Ms. Janes’s classroom rather than have it collect dust in my house for another two months.

Then I realized I still hadn’t read the book. After a ridiculous back-and-forth in my head on my way out of the school, I decided to stay true to my rule not to gift a book I haven't read myself. A Letter to my Teacher was a kids’ book, after all. It’d take 5 minutes - well 15 for me (I'm a slow reader). So I returned to my house with the book in tow; and, in lieu of the 30 minutes of yoga that I have yet to start doing “first thing in the morning", I sat down at the dining room table, read A Letter to my Teacher,and cried.

Not only did the teacher in the pictures look like my son’s 2nd-grade teacher, the teacher in the words acted like Ms. Janes, who continues to inspire me and other parents with her patient, caring and altruistic teaching ‘style’. What’s more, I knew the child in the book well too- that kid who just can’t sit still, who talks incessantly, who always seems to be breaking something or getting hurt. I know Ms. Janes will immediately recognize the child as well, though she will likely be reminded of many more students in addition to my son.

Over the years, whenever I've been in the company of a group of children, I’ve always been drawn to the firecrackers - the ones who can’t sit still, who talk incessantly, who always seem to be breaking something or getting hurt. BUT, as I’ve explained to so many parents (when they apologize for their kid hoarding my attention), I also don’t have to take them home. Well, my third (and last) child was the firecracker I had to take home; and I’ve been trying to reign him in without damaging his spirit since the day he was born.

Ms. Janes - and his 1st-grade and kindergarten teachers before her - have helped both of us turn an important corner, and we are not the exception. Such is the role of a teacher, and a gift that our society is taking for granted.

My 14YO recently told me that one of the saddest things to him is how ‘even the good teachers’ wouldn’t encourage their students to go into teaching. “Here is one of the most influential people in your life,” he’d said (or something like that) after his famously charismatic and altruistic high-school chorus teacher announced he was leaving public teaching to get his doctorate, “…the kind of person you should want to be like - and he doesn’t even think you should follow in his footsteps.”

Deborah Hopkinson’s picture book, A Letter to my Teacher, puts the mission of teaching squarely where it’s meant to be by appreciating the special teachers that have graced all of our lives, whether or not we’ve had children of our own. This is a must-give for that special teacher in your life. Even better if (s)he happens to teach second grade.

If you need an excuse to pay $17.99 for a children’s picture book, consider this: 

(1) Buy the book to read to your elementary-aged child. Remove the dust-cover and treat the book carefully, because you are only borrowing it. (This is a good opportunity to teach your child how *not* to mistreat books.)

(2) When the book has collected a thin layer of dust, wipe the cover with a barely damp cloth, replace the dust jacket, and tuck the book safely away (I use the space under my hanging clothes). When you encounter a teacher you are grateful to have in your child’s life (or yours), give the book to that teacher.

You get (2) for the price of (1); and, better yet, you bring (3) people a little happiness.

As for me, I’m buying my own copy of A Letter to my Teacher from my local independent bookstore now that I’ve given the first to Ms. Janes. This is definitely a book for my children’s book collection, and one that I suspect won’t stay on my shelf for long. No worries. I expect the book will be in print for a long time.

Aside: Another book I try to keep in supply is Bryce Courtenay’s A Recipe for Dreaming. It’s the perfect graduation gift or inspirational boost when needed. My copy is trashed from being read in the bath so many times ;-).