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| Courtesy Pixabay |
I did
not get a great mark in my college history class my freshman year. It
had a little to do with my study habits, it had more to do with my
lack of participation in the classroom. I knew that a portion of our
mark came from our participation and if I got better than a goose egg
on mine the instructor was being generous. So many opportunities to
look stupid.
My
senior year I took two history classes, Ancient Israel with Dr. Paige
and Church History with Mr. Kelly. I determined to participate in the
first and did a lot of reading before the semester for the second.
Talking in front of the class was the big challenge.
Out of
the gate, I was looking for the right question and I thought I'd
found the perfect safe one when Dr. Paige asked the class, “What
time does evening start?” I think he was genuinely surprised to see
my hand shoot straight up and of course he selected me to answer.
“Six
o'clock!”
“Right
and what happens at six o'clock?” Now I was on the spot. This
wasn't in our assigned reading and I knew that seeing it in TV Guide
wasn't the answer he was looking for.
So I
replied, “I don't know. Suppertime?”
The
look on his face said it all. He was thinking he shouldn't have asked
me because he knew I'd say something stupid like that. He finished
with a somewhat exasperated, “No! Sunset!”
In my
defense, I'm Canadian. How often does sunset actually happen anywhere
near six o'clock? Where I grew up during the summer, it went down
after nine o'clock and in the dead of winter it was close to four. I
know it all averages out to about six o'clock (discounting daylight
savings time) but I can't see how that would have been automatically
impressed on my mind.
I did
survive that incident and forged on ahead. Dr. Paige and I developed
a treasured professor/student relationship. He liked teaching and
liked his students. I know he was proud of my efforts and quickly
picked up on where I could make a valuable verbal contribution to the
class. We had several memorable conversations outside of the
classroom as well. He appreciated my sense of humour, which sometimes got me
into trouble. He loved the kiddie sandbox shovel I sent to one of his
archeology students.
Years
after college I was saddened at the news his passing from cancer. The
world lost a very kind man and gifted teacher.
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