First

In life, there is always a first for everything.

The first cry in greeting this world that one was born into, the first sight in seeing one’s mother’s face for the very first time

The first spoken word in saying “dada”, the first step taken in walking this path of life

Plus many more, all are held with a special place in one’s heart and in the hearts of the beloved ones.

In every life event, there is an association of persons and/or places. Among those, there are the first and the second, the following and the next, the before and the after; either continue on or being interrelated to one another.

Just as the scenery began to fade and people faces became vague, one can still picture the details and be thankful for what events have had happening.

* * *

My first car, my first job, my first home; I remember them well.

Whether it’s my angst in getting back to driving again after four years of college, my mixed feelings of excitement and nervousness on the first day at work or my contentment while moving into my new house, I remember them all.

Although it was a considerable milestone to accomplish all those “firsts” before the age of twenty five, my mother had reminded me otherwise. It’s my teacher whom I should find in giving thanks and paying respect to; because without my teacher’s lasting contribution in teaching me the basic concepts at the very beginning of my educational life, I’m not where I am today.

Back then, I was not destined to become my teacher’s “official” pupil. I was only there for after school tutoring classes on the basic subjects of vocabulary, reading, grammar, writing, introduction to Vietnamese literature and mathematics for the first three years of grade school.

We parted way afterward as my teacher moved to another school district and I continued on with my educational path. What I had left with was the passing of my teacher’s knowledge and wisdom along with my teacher’s name and the name of the street where my teacher lives.

Fifteen years later, from across the ocean, I made it my mission in finding my teacher. What I really wanted to do was to say thanks with deepest appreciation from the bottom of my heart and to tell my teacher that I’ll never forget the time when my teacher first holding my hand to put the correct strokes together in writing or the time when my teacher first taught me how to count as they are part of the foundation allowing me to build upon, to expand my knowledge and to enlarge my understanding.

At heaven’s will, the “people search” ad on a local newspaper came back with good news. Thanks to friends back home (in Viet Nam), one helped with the posting of the ad and one happened to read the ad and brought it to my teacher’s attention. That was how my teacher and I got back in touch again.

Not until my first trip back home to Viet Nam in 2006 that I had a chance to visit my teacher. My only regret is that I was unable to pay my teacher a proper respect because my teacher was not well then. My teacher was resting at the time, recuperating from a recent life threatening operation. However, I was happy to see my teacher after those years. Just being by my teacher’s bed side was enough for me. It was a privilege.

In a blink of the eyes, eight years had passed since my teacher and I found each other one again. Today, I continue to think of my teacher as the guiding light and I’m now starting to understand the deepest reason why I’m destined to be my teacher’s student.


Seen here is a picture of my teacher, cô Võ Thị Hạnh. The picture was taken at Dalat, Viet Nam while she was on a pilgrimage trip to visit various temples in the early summer of 2005.

* * *

Our paths have crossed and our presence have been fulfilling for one another. I could not ask for more. . .

Knowing that everything is impermanent, I’m learning to appreciate and treasure every moment we have.

On this first day of spring, I think of my teacher to wish her good health and much happiness.

The time and distance are something that is measurable. But, the closeness in the heart isn’t. And that is just what I keep with me in my heart, always!

Writer’s Notes:
Originally, when I first conceived with the idea of introducing my first grade teacher, I initially thought of writing in the native Vietnamese language since it is deemed appropriate. However, as I began to write, all of my thoughts are in English and with it they flow. No matter how hard I tried to express them in Vietnamese, they just didn’t come out right. So, English it is and here is “First.”

In Viet Nam, the “Teachers’ Day” of appreciation is on the twentieth day of the eleven month (November 20). But, waiting until then to say the words of thanks to my teacher seems too long for me :) I personally thought that if one has anything to say to someone, then one just say it appropriately right then. Thus, I say it today, on the first day of spring, to send my love and thanks to my teacher in telling her that I’m thinking of her and loving her always. “Em thương cô và nhớ cô thật nhiều!”