The death of someone close to us brings a broken heart and a broken spirit.  There are no braggarts at a funeral–no loud boasters in the “house of mourning.”

I thought of this at Lindsay Stout’s funeral. She was my student, just beginning her senior year.  She died in a one car crash about three years ago now.  I remember that she was just  lying there in front of the church, pale and joyless.

Her mother wanted me to speak that day.  “You were her favorite teacher.  She talked about you all the time.”  But it was difficult to look at Lindsay that morning.

I was broken when I rose to speak.  I told them how blessed I was to have spent some 800 hours with her in the classroom.  Three years of Spanish, two years of English.  I read her last essay that she had written and a poem…