Mrs. Audrey Nash was my first grade teacher. A stoutly woman with short hair and a kind smile, she created a classroom environment that inspired little minds to learn and grow. She understood children and possessed a teacher’s heart at her very core. Her strong character commanded respect and she didn’t hesitate to discipline when someone was out of line. She was by no means tough; rather she was fair and straight-forward. And I thrived under her teaching. So when I was about to enter the third grade and discovered she had transitioned into the 3rd grade teaching position, I was utterly elated.
Beyond the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic, my favorite part of the school day followed recess. We would come inside from the snowy playground, shed our winter coats and boots, shake off the Minnesota chill, and sit ourselves down as a gathered gaggle of grade-schoolers to listen to Mrs. Nash read.
And read she did. Every day. Without fail. Her voice resonated with bold animation as she opened the pages of Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little. We warmed ourselves to her words and were swept into these stories with captivating delight. Occasionally she’d divert into poetry from Beastly Boys and Ghastly Girls and the classroom would erupt with laughter. She brought each book to life in a way that had me smitten for the written word.
So, when I grew up and the children’s book I wrote and illustrated was published, I sent her a copy and let her know how much she had truly influenced me. Shortly after, she graciously responded with a lovely, long letter expressing her delight in receiving my book, but even more so in reconnecting after so many years. I could almost hear her voice as I read her words and was once again warmed by this dear woman.
I thought of Mrs. Nash a few weeks ago while working in my studio. I don’t know what brought her to mind but I felt certain I should reach out again, though it had been about eighteen years since our last correspondence. After an online search revealed a new address for her name, I put a short, hand-written note in the mail in hopes it would find her well.
About a week later, a small box arrived with a return address marked, “Audrey Nash.” I was surprised and excited to open it. The note inside was warm, but pierced my heart:
Dear Mary King,
My mother Audrey Nash died August 4th, 2017. She was born September 27th, 1931. I
believe my mother would be very happy for you to be given this cup and saucer. It
belonged to my Grandmother, Erma Heinbuch, my mother’s mother. Mother loved her
dishes. As you might imagine, this cup and saucer was very special to her. She would be
proud of you I am sure. I feel very blessed to have been able to read the card you sent
mother. I feel your love of God.
Tears came quickly reading these words from her son. My favorite teacher had long since left this world. But even though that reality stung, I was nonetheless glad I had reconnected with her years earlier. I carefully removed the packing materials from the box and slowly unwrapped the antique German-made porcelain cup and saucer. I held them in my hands, pondering their significance. Handed down as a treasured remembrance—from a mother to a daughter—from that daughter to her son—from that son to a former student. What a thoughtful and meaningful gift to cherish.
Many of us have a special teacher whose positive influence helped shape the course of our lives. Mrs. Nash was one of those people for me. I knew her to be a great teacher. The shared memento from her son has shown me she was also a great mother. I still wonder what brought her to mind recently. But now, as I see her cup and saucer sitting sweetly in my kitchen, I know I will think of her even more often in the days to come.