You Live and Learn Part 4
December 5, 2025
You Live and Learn Part 4
As we live and learn, many of our most meaningful lessons are enlightening and heartwarming. They often turn into our most cherished memories. Perhaps your mother or father once pointed to a breathtaking sunset, and from that experience, you learned that the world turns. Maybe you watched birds build their nests and felt wonder stir within you. Or someone special may have taught you how to ride a bike or drive a car, and your world grew larger that day. Living and learning are not always about difficult experiences. It can include all the happy surprises and the Ah Ha’s of life.
Mrs. Newell was my first-grade teacher. A lovely woman in her mid-forties, she wore her dark hair in a neat bun at the top of her head. She smiled often and encouraged each of us to do our best. Not long ago, I visited my old elementary school on a quiet weekend when no one was around. As I walked the familiar grounds, memories flooded in. When I reached my first-grade classroom and peered through its large windows, a powerful life lesson came back to me, as clear as day.
I remembered the afternoon Mrs. Newell asked the class to doodle freely on a sheet of white paper with a black crayon. Each of us filled our blank paper with loops and angles, our oversized crayons racing across the surface. Then she said gently, “Now, children, fill in every open space with all the colors you can. Then look at your picture and see if something appears—just like when you look at clouds in the sky. There is sure to be a picture within all the doodles that will show itself.”
One by one, the children raised their hands, excitedly sharing what they had seen in their drawings, which soon decorated the bulletin board. But I saw nothing on my drawing. There seemed to be only loops filled with varied colors. I felt inferior, left out. Something must be wrong with me, I thought.
Mrs. Newell noticed my distress. She quietly asked me to bring my picture to her desk. Studying it for only a moment, she smiled and said, “Do you see the teapot right here?” With a black crayon, and to my astonishment, she traced the outline of a colorful teapot she found within my doodle.
Then she spoke the words that have stayed with me all my life:
“Just look at things with soft eyes, and you can see a lot.” She placed my picture on the bulletin board with the others.
Decades later, in my hometown, I visited a beloved neighbor from the neighborhood I grew up in, who was now in a care facility. As I walked through the dining room to find my friend, an older lady sitting at a table locked eyes with me. She smiled and said, “I know you; I taught you how to read!” She had picked me out of a crowded room, with none other than, you guessed it—soft eyes. Mrs. Newell recognized me, even though I was now an adult. I wonder if she saw my soul. I hugged her neck and told her that she taught me much more than how to read.
Spiritual practice: What begins to emerge in your awareness when you look at your surroundings with soft eyes in this very moment?
Self-inquiry: Can you recall a time when someone lovingly opened your eyes to see yourself differently? Where does that memory live in your soul?
Prayer:
Dear God, Today, I think of Mrs. Newell and the love she gave me that day. My young ego was beginning to feel separate and excluded, but through her kindness, I remembered my soul child. I could see my own goodness through her eyes. Please tell Mrs. Newell I will never forget her tenderness. Amen.
