Mr. Williams was a friend of my father but this was not the reason I respected him and always thought him as a good friend of mine.
I was born in a poor family, mom was in bad health condition and dad was always busy with these business trips. I was a silent girl, shy and somehow lacking confidence. This was just the way I was born with. Mom cared about me very much but she just could not do anything about it but love more.
Mr. Williams was my math teacher years ago. I was sitting at the back of the classroom. The moment he set his step in the classroom I got nerves. I saw nothing behind his glasses but I decided to keep my usual way, keeping silent.
He was not that stern and tough compared to other teachers. He was patient and encouraged us to ask questions. In no time he noticed there was an extremely inactive student in his class. He did not ask me why I was so silent in the class instead he walked toward me, sat down and smiled at me across the desk.
He told me all those things about his daughters. I said nothing in return, and then the math classes turned out to be one of the hardest moments for me. My not listening to what the teacher said did not mean my academic results would be a mess. Actually I was doing better than most of the other students.
Mr. Williams continued his talking with me for a month, during those four weeks I learned how to roll eyes and infuse my expressions with indignation. He certainly did not intend to give up until I opened my mouth and gave my respond.
One day I was really down. Mom was in the hospital and I was looked after by Aunt Lisa, I hated her, but I had no choice. Mr. Williams told me about the new pet he had got recently, lots of funny things about it. I could no longer resist the temptation of visiting it and I said: can I have a look?”
I saw the eyes behind the glasses shining like two stars. I felt at ease and opened myself.
Later I found out he volunteered to talk to me and help me with my minor autism. I was deeply touched by his persistence and impressed by his efforts. When my mother recovered from the disease and dad got promoted we invited Mr. Williams’ over to dinner. Every time I wanted myself locked in I would recall the looks behind his glasses and immediately be encouraged to move on.