I think we all have (at least) one; that one teacher who had a significant impact on our life. Mine was my 7th grade history teacher, Neville Austin.

I grew up loving history - something passed down from my Grampy Shelton. He was born in 1918 and was a walking History Channel special - he lived through the Great Depression, he witnessed the Hindenburg explosion, he saw Albert Einstein on his walk to and from work in Princeton, NJ, he was one of the first people in the country to spread the word of the attack on Pearl Harbor while serving as a U.S. Army telegraph operator, he helped change the healthcare finance industry and was posthumously inducted into the Healthcare Hall of Fame at the University of Pennsylvania. He didn’t just love history, he lived history.

So, naturally, a history teacher would be a pretty obvious candidate to be “that teacher.” But, that’s not entirely why.

As a kid, I moved around quite a bit. The start of 7th grade - for me - meant entering my third school in four years and making the jump to Junior High.

Mr. Austin was a fun, passionate, enthusiastic guy who you could tell loved to teach and loved being around his students. I think every kid in the class - even notorious troublemakers - respected him. He taught us more than history. 

It was in his class that I met my life-long best friend. In fact, at the end of the school year, we bought Mr. Austin a Boston Celtics championship flag that listed all of their (up to that point) World Championships. He was a Celtics/Larry Bird fanatic and we saw it as a way to show our appreciation.

Over the past 23 years, I have often thought of Mr. Austin, remembering his enthusiasm, encouragement and life lessons, wondering what he was up to.

Then, a couple weeks ago, my wife Rachel was working on a post for SpreadLurve.com and it really got me thinking. I had also seen her writing (handwritten) notes of love, gratitude and encouragement to people every day for several days straight and it truly inspired me. I wanted to track down Mr. Austin. 

I managed to find his son’s email address (he’s now a teacher in my old junior high) and asked him to pass my information along to his dad. That was Tuesday. I had a message in my Inbox yesterday morning that included the following:

This is the original Neville Austin. I am starting my 35th year. That makes me 56 if your counting.

He still has a sense of humor. :-)

Finally, after all this time, I could share this with him:

Over the course of the past 20+ years (is that possible?!), I have thought of you often. Why? Quite simply, you were “that teacher” for me. I think we all have (at least) one; the teacher who had the single greatest impact on you during your educational journey.

So, for that, I want to say thank you.

Your passion for history, for students, and for life was clearly evident, even to a wide-eyed 7^th grader who was in his third school in four years. You made learning fun, but also took ‘education’ seriously – taking it beyond the textbook into ‘real life’. In fact, to this day, I use with my own kids - Samantha (9) and Sophia (3) – a maxim that you shared with us back then: “Can’t means won’t.”

Your legacy clearly reaches beyond the end of each passing school year and I thought you should know that. So, thank you so much for caring enough to teach, and for sharing yourself with your students.

While the banner Bryan (He was Best Man in my wedding, by the way. We met in your class.) and I gave you back in ’88 is now outdated due to another Celtics title, I certainly hope it hangs proudly somewhere and can now serve as a reminder of not only great basketball, but also of a student whose life you’ve touched forever.

That was it. After more than 20 years, I just wanted to say “thank you” and to tell him how much his presence in my life meant to me.

But, then, the real blessing. His response:

In these times when teachers seem to be the bad guys again………you have touched my very soul.  You never know whether your time has made an impact. I am truly blessed to know in some small way I have been a part of your life. Please give Bryan my best………and yes my banner hangs next to my picture of Larry Bird.  Good luck in all that you do and God Bless you and your family!

Neville

That response is the point of this post: You can touch someone’s SOUL by simply taking 10 minutes to tell them that they matter to you.

Who is it for you? What are you waiting for?

Most of us - probably all of us - have a desire to live a life that “matters,” a life of significance. What that means varies by person, but there is an innate calling in each of us, a little voice that stirs inside and prompts us to “do something significant.”

Sadly, however, most of us manage to talk ourselves out of it. We say things to ourselves like, “Who am I? I’m nobody? Who would listen to me?”

Or, we simply make excuses for why we can’t like “I don’t have enough time, money, celebrity, connections, personality, (fill in the blank) to do anything significant.” Sometimes we even disguise our excuses as “wishes:”

• I wish I had enough money to…
• I wish I was famous, so I could…
• I wish I could…

Why do we do this?

We hear stories about people who have overcome HUGE obstacles to persevere or who have risked life and limb for a cause they believe in. Somehow, we just can’t see ourselves as that person. We feel so… insignificant.

It ultimately boils down to this: We confuse “big” or “newsworthy” or “dangerous” with “significant.”

We somehow believe that if what we do doesn’t warrant an hour-long Dateline special, it isn’t significant. Nothing could be further from the truth. The smallest act, the seemingly most insignificant one you can think of - smiling at someone, for example - could alter the course of a life forever.

In the book Soul Cravings (affiliate link), author Erwin McManus tells the story of Anna, who was ready to call it quits, to take her own life, because she felt so insignificant. It’s clearly the extreme, but it conveys an important message.

She couldn’t think of one more reason to live. In that moment, she decided to call out to God one last time - one of those gauntlets. “If you have anything to say about this, God, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

She didn’t know her cell phone was on. There had been no good reason to take it with her. No one ever called. And suddenly it rang - an unexpected call. Someone needed her, had been looking for her, was wondering where she was, what she was doing. How could she end her life that day? There was something for her to do. Someone needed her. She had a reason to live. It doesn’t take much to keep us wanting to live - just a little hope.

A phone call. It changed Anna’s life forever. It was significant. Incredibly significant. But, I can promise you that the person who placed that call thought absolutely nothing of it.

It reminds me of a quote by Keith Cunningham that I have hanging by my desk.

Ordinary things consistently done produce extraordinary results.

The things you see as “ordinary” - like making a phone call to someone you haven’t spoken to in awhile - could be extraordinarily significant. The magnitude of your significance will be determined by the consistency of your actions.

What “ordinary” or “insignificant” actions will you take today? Do you believe that those acts will ultimately prove to be significant? Why? Why not? As always, I’d love to hear from you.