Portals Of My Mind
"The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind." Kahlil
Grade one, six years old, born to immigrant parents
not a word of English did I speak, but I found compassion
in a kind loving teacher who smelled like talcum powder
and wore baby blue eyeshadow, the color of the sky.
She never married for the love of her life died at war
each time she spoke about him her eyes shone like stars *
I will never forget that first day at school
when I began to cry. Not understanding the language
I walked a dark corridor of oppression and gloom.
She walked over to my desk and leaned into my ear,
don't worry I speak Italian too in case you get stuck.
Its as if someone had just let me out of a dark suitcase.
I inhaled the scent of her talcum and the color of her blues.
Everything would be fine I knew as I walked through
the portals of my mind unafraid, I began to trust and learn.
Miss Cartolano was my first grade teacher.
She was the one who taught me how to never give up.
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