I
I met him thirty some odd years ago;
A white-haired man in short-sleeves and a tie,
Greeting all with warm and loving smile;
To usher us to our first day of school.
I was but a small and frightened child,
He looked at me as if I were his own;
I did not know what a principal was,
But if I had to guess from him alone
I’d say it means grandfather of the school.
He was the one that made it a safe space,
Where some teachers might inspire fear,
I knew that he was there in patient love.
And he could calm a gym of rowdy kids
Just standing and raising up his hand.
It was not fear that caused us to obey;
We quieted obedient to his love.
In my last year under that kind man’s care,
I recall him standing by when we’d go out
To lower the school flag at end of day
And praising us for how we made our folds.
I think that we tried harder for that praise;
To feel that we had earned the kind word said.
Though he praised the effort not result
Still it was better for the words he said.
II
We met again ten or so years ago;
He sat in darkened church on cushioned pew.
I in sound booth for a children’s show,
Seeing his profile I recognized
And struck by decades of forgotten awe.
In twenty years his smile had not dimmed.
Though nervousness cautioned to me to hold back,
He made it safe the moment that I spoke;
Grandfatherly, though standing eye to eye,
And joy and kindness having me received.
Could he recall the small and frightened child?
It mattered not the child remembered him;
And I remember still a decade on
And still hope to learn from him, though gone.
His gentleness and kindness, always love,
Examples that I hope to follow well.
I do not grieve though that his life is passed,
For each of us is given numbered days,
And I was blessed that mine should cross with his,
And blessed again to see his smile once more.
Inadequate, the title principal;
It does not scratch the surface of his worth.
He was one of the best I’ve ever known;
A grandfather and friend to all he knew.
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