Personal Narrative: My First Grade In Religious Education

My teacher’s religion is deep, like mine. She was so into it that it made her class even more interesting. Each day of school fluttering with new information and fun. And it was that religion that lured me into thinking that all teachers were errorless. But I was only 6 years old. As I entered first grade in Religious Education, the smile on her face told me that this was going to be fun and exciting. The teacher seemed happy and comfortable to have me as her student. All of the other kids came in, introducing ourselves to the teacher and talking about our summer. The room was small, but was enough for her to teach. The first day of school began and ended with a treat she brought for us. Since the start, I knew that I would get along with her just fine
Each Wednesday, I strived to show her that I knew a lot what she talked about and it turned out to work! I mostly answered the questions correct and was astounded by the way I could express my answers. “Outstanding answer,” she would say. “Where did you learn that?” And as a reward she would let me choose something from the prize box. This always made me work harder to earn a reward. Every time I returned to my mom, I would show her what I earned and she would congratulate me. She would come up to my
mom and say that I was an incredible student and that enjoyed having me in her class. Before long I was out of first and continue moving to second, third, and fourth. But our friendship never perished. She even taught my brother Kenny! Though we never actually had a long conversation after first grade, she would encourage me to study harder and to never slack off every time our paths met. After she taught my brother Kenny, I never saw her again at school and wondered why she left. I came home one day when I was in 8th grade. My day went pretty well, nothing to pout about. I walked home observing my street and walked in my house. My mom greeted me and waited to get my brothers at the bus stop. After that we ate lunch and started to clean up. My mom went to see the Island packet on our computer and stood there for a while. Then my mom called me to see something. I never thought of the worst, but when I saw the face on the screen, I recognized it immediately. On the mugshots page, was my so called teacher from first grade. I stood there, shocked by the presence of my teacher, and noticed that face was older than it looked. My mom clicked on the picture and up came the incidents that led her to jail. I was as still as a stick, mouth opened, and speechless. The first thing that popped up in my mind was a time I never forgot.
I was in class and she started to ask questions about the Holy Trinity. I was the only one to get a question correct, but unfortunately she didn’t have her prize box. She told me me with as sad voice that she was sorry that she didn’t bring it, but that she would bring it next class. I told her that I didn’t matter and that there was no hurry. I said goodbye to find my mom in the family center. The next day, I went on the bus to go to school. Once off the bus, someone called my name. It was my teacher! “I told you that I would bring it,” she said. “Thank you,” I said and picked my prize. I waved goodbye to her and walked inside the building to
learn.
“This is something you may want to learn,” my mom said. “Not all people that you think are good people, are good. But if you ever see her, be as kind as she was when she taught you.” I never thought that people that I onced trusted, could do stuff that I would never have imagined doing. Though, it was hard to see her there, it affected me greatly and made me more cautious on who the right people are.But I will still have my teacher’s religion as deep as mine.