She was one of my second grade teachers. She taught me math, and at that time I
thought she was teaching me everything that I would ever need to know about
math, and for that matter about life itself. Well, not really, but Mrs. Pillar
was a great teacher and I learned so much from her when I was eight years old.
However, I will always remain indebted to her for what she did for me more than
a decade later.
As a sophomore in college, I was involved in a near fatal "accident" when I
walked into a robbery at a convenience store. One of the thieves shot me in the
head -- "pumping a bullet into my brain." The thieves, as well as most people,
thought that I was dead or would soon be dead. Obviously, they were wrong.
However, it was a severe and difficult battle getting back into the mainstream
of life. I had to drop out of college to be hospitalized. Even after I was
discharged from the hospital I endured many hours of intensive therapy. I had to
relearn practically everything, including walking, talking, and yes, even math.
To help me with that task, Mrs. Pillar volunteered to come to the hospital and
later to my house once a week, to work with me. At first, the material that she
presented appeared, to most people, to be very basic math skills. Then, as time
progressed, and I made progress, my "homework" became progressively more
difficult.
I remember very vividly how she would come to my home on Sundays, sit with me at
the kitchen table, and throw various coins on the table. She would ask me to
show her 38 cents, 17 cents, 63 cents …. It was challenging -- but she also made
it fun.
After one-and-a-half years had passed, I had progressed sufficiently both
physically and mentally to return to college. Once there, I continued therapy
regularly, but I was enrolled in college. I was back at the University of Texas.
Four years after I returned to college I graduated from the University at the
top of my class. Following that, I went on to Graduate School.
As the years went by, I always kept in touch with Mrs. Pillar. However,
unfortunately, one day my parents informed me that Mrs. Pillar had been
hospitalized because she had suffered a stroke after having undergone open-heart
surgery.
Now it was my turn to help her. When I walked into the ICU at the hospital, Mrs.
Pillar was in a hospital bed and could not speak. I thought that the situation
was extremely ironic. Nothing had changed except for who was in the bed and who
was standing beside it.
I told Mrs. Pillar that I would be back and that I would work with her just as
she had worked with me years earlier. As the days went by, I saw Mrs. Pillar
progress each time I would visit her.
One day, when I was visiting her, I pulled some coins out of my pocket, dropped
them on her bed, and asked her to show me 12 cents. The nurse thought that my
action was extremely strange until Mrs. Pillar smiled briefly as I began working
with her just as she had worked with me years before. I would point to the dimes
and the pennies and she would put them together when I would ask her to give me
the proper amount of money.
Mrs. Pillar was eventually transferred from the ICU to a private room and then
to a Rehab room. As she moved from room to room, there was no doubt in my mind
that she was improving.
When I would visit her I would always ask her to tell me something good. At
first, her family, who would generally be standing around her bed, would quickly
jump in and say, "Mama is doing so well;" or "My sister is doing great."
However, I would quickly raise my hand and say, "Mrs. Pillar, you tell me
something good." She would then slowly and hesitantly answer my question. As the
days would go by, her responses would be quicker and more fluent
Mrs. Pillar made wonderful progress and was eventually discharged from the
hospital with a prescription to continue with speech therapy as an outpatient.
One day I called her to wish her a happy New Year. She spoke into the phone
quite fluently and said, "Happy New Year to you and your family, Michael. Thank
you for everything you've done for me."
I quickly remarked, "Thank you for everything you've done for me."
Mrs. Pillar was one of my second grade teachers, but she taught me so much more
about life than mere mathematics.
Michael Segal, MSW ©2003, all rights reserved
Msegalhope@aol.com
Michael Segal is a social worker at Memorial Hermann Hospital, author, and well
sought after motivational speaker. He married his highschool sweetheart, Sharon,
and together they have a daughter, Shawn. Mike has had much national recognition
about his "miraculous" comeback after being shot in the head as an innocent
witness to a robbery. He has many published stories in anthologies, newsletters,
and ezines.
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