This past week, I hosted in my home three high school friends for a day. We are approaching our 50th high school graduation anniversary and it was fun reminiscing. We are growing older and now discuss our various ailments, doctor visits, and surgeries. We don’t move as fast as we did in high school but at least our minds are still working — for the moment!
One of my friends grew up near the home of our math teacher, Mrs. Simon, who was a legend at our high school. She taught the top students and rigorously prepared them for university. I was in her class for three high school years — from Algebra I to pre-Calculus. Mrs. Simon was a strict authoritarian and demanded respect, attention, and diligent preparation. One sideways look from her would send quivers down your back.
On the first day of high school, Mrs. Simon set her standards. We were not allowed to enter her class until her room was completely cleared of all students from the previous class. She assigned seats, then passed out our math books. She then handed out book covers, those thick brown paper sheets with advertisements on the exterior. Normally, we would just take the book covers home, cut them up, and cover our books. Instead, Mrs. Simon told us to read the book cover instructions and cover our books exactly as instructed. She passed out scissors, then took us step-by-step through the instructions. After eight years of covering books, this was the first time that I read the instructions.
As we worked, she walked around pointing out errors. She made students start again when an error occurred. It took 30 minutes to complete the book covering project. She then instructed us on the proper way to fill out the exterior of the book cover with our name and other identifiers. When the book covers were completed, I noticed how well we covered the books. Mrs. Simon then told the class that our books must always be perfectly covered and properly replaced when torn or battered. There was to be no other ‘writings’ on the book covers.
Mrs. Simon always demanded precision and excellence in mathematical calculations. She never lowered her standards. Her tests were rigorous, but fair. No talking in class was allowed. If you raised your hand, she called on you and answered your question. She cared about her students and loved them, but in a strict no-nonsense manner. She was close to retirement and came from a more formal generation. Mrs. Simon graduated from the University of Oklahoma during the 1940’s with a master’s degree in mathematics, a rarity for women of her generation. Her toughness was built through overcoming adversity in a cowboy environment.
During my senior year, I was the president of the Math Club. Our last meeting of the school year was a banquet, and I decided to present her an engraved plaque honoring her many years of advising the Math Club. It surprised her and she even smiled during the presentation. A picture of me presenting the plaque to her is in my high school yearbook. As I reflect on my years with Mrs. Simon, was I a sycophant or exhibiting love? Mrs. Simon was a difficult person to love because she never let her guard down. I knew, deep down, she cared.
She did have a strange sense of humor, like the time she asked a student to clip her hang nail. She held out her finger and when the nervous student cut it, she exclaimed: “How wonderful it is to be rid of that awful thing!” During a school trip to another city for a math event, a girl asked Mrs. Simon to tell the bus driver to stop for a bathroom break. Mrs. Simon told everybody to use the restroom before loading the bus. Mrs. Simon looked directly at her and said, “Hang it out of the window.” The girl meekly went back to her seat.
It is possible to show love by being tough. Mrs. Simon’s gift was preparing students for the rigor of university math and science classes. But her gift also prepared students for adult life. She loved us by expecting and demanding perfection. She wanted all her student to succeed at the next level by first succeeding in her class. She demanded discipline, respect, and hard work. Her students had to comply or else seek a lower-level class. She did not coddle her students because the universities, and life in general, would not coddle us.
It wasn’t until years later that I understood that Mrs. Simon’s tough love made me a better person. I achieved a foundational technical education because she cared enough to demand excellence. She persevered as a woman through graduate school and raised two boys alone after an early divorce. She was tough as nails, and she wanted her students to develop their God-given gifts. Love comes in many forms: a simple hug, a kind word, and a demanding teacher. All forms of love are meaningful and felt in different ways.
God’s love goes beyond human love. It never ends as it is eternal. We can turn our backs on God, but God is always waiting with open arms for us to return. When we fail, God grants us grace after we acknowledge our failings and seek forgiveness. Like Mrs. Simon, God wants us to succeed and places boundaries on our behaviors. Success is following rules and trusting the teacher. The Apostle Paul said it best: “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” (Romans 8:35,37)
During my high school years, I was not always thankful for Mrs. Simon. As the years flew by since high school, I realized just how fortunate I was that God blessed me with her gift of teaching that cascaded through the lives of her many students. Well done, good and trustworthy servant. (Matthew 25:21)
