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Saturday, October 10, 2009

REMEMBERING A DEAR TEACHER: MISS NELL THOMPSON ADAMS MONTGOMERY

Mrs. Nell Thompson Adams Montgomery and her husband, the Rev. Bill Montgomery, are pictured. They married after the below article was written.
 
My first-grade teacher introduced me to reading, writing, and arithmetic and impressed me with her Christian character.

We stayed in contact after she labored to illumine my then-young mind. Her daughters, Hope Barbare and Charlotte McClimon (their father and Ms. Nell’s husband was the late Richard Adams), recently asked me to write a “Happy Eightieth Birthday” note to their mother. Here is a copy of that letter:

Congratulations, Ms. Nell Thompson Adams, on your eightieth birthday (2009)!

I first remember you as Miss Nell Thompson, my first-grade teacher at Mountain View Elementary School in upper Greenville County, S.C.

I was six years old when I entered your classroom for my first public school experience in 1953. You must have been then 24 years old. You attended the church my family attended, Gum Springs Pentecostal-Holiness Church. Pastor James H. Thompson, your older brother, ministered there, and I had seen you and some of your family at church meetings. You appeared to me to be a quiet, gentle, smiling, holy lady.

You introduced me to “education” and taught me to read. You taught us the English alphabet and the sounds of syllables. “See Jane run” and “See Spot go” were some of the words we read in first grade. When we finished our first paperback reading books, you gave them to us to take home, and when our bus let me off at my house, I raced to my mother who was hanging laundry in our backyard. I read the whole book to her as she stood at the clothesline. She said, “That’s good.”

You were a very young, pretty teacher and controlled our class with dignity. Most of us were respectful in those days, as I remember. The noise level would rise at times, and you would tell us, “I’m going to have to get firm.” We shaped up when we saw the serious look on your face and heard that line, “I’m going to have to get firm.”

Our classroom was located on the first floor in the center of the schoolhouse, which accommodated 12 grades. Our room stood next to a giant coal bin, which provided fuel for the school heating system (radiator heat). To reach the boys’ restroom, we walked past the coal bin on a sidewalk.

You were patient and wise. We lined up each day at our classroom door to have a blessing before we went to lunch. I recall that a girl one day said, “____ (So-and-So) didn’t have her eyes closed during the prayer.” I thought some kind of judgment – perhaps a paddling – ought to land on the girl who dared open her eyes during our blessing! But you, in your wisdom, said to the tattler, “How did you know?”

Whoa! I saw the light! I felt as if there was probably more to life than I understood. I had condemned a girl and had not seen the guilt of the informer. You demonstrated the “wisdom of Solomon” on that day. I’ve thought many times of that incident.

Steve Babb and I got into a first-grade fight (it started because we were “playing wrestling”) on the school playground. Someone went to get you, and you made us sit in the classroom. I thought you were going to paddle us, but you didn’t.

You have “kept up” with me over the years and have been for me a constant encouragement. Thank you for your Christian life and for every remembrance I have of your influence. You are a rare and precious lady, and I thank God for you and your family.

Happy birthday, Ms. Nell!
With love,
From Steve

I often think about the various public school teachers who instructed me. They usually communicated more than simple subject matter, as students often “picked up on” what those teachers believed about life. I recall one high school history teacher who was tall, thin, dark-haired and fair-skinned. Her husband served as a pastor, but this lady (let’s call her Mrs. “Stern”) appeared to be heavy on law and light on grace. She seemed to tolerate no monkey business. I sat in her classroom one day when a girl asked, “Mrs. Stern, why are you so mean? Isn’t your husband a preacher?” A hush fell over the class, and a serious-faced Mrs. Stern answered, “God called him to preach – not me!”

An unknown author said, “A good teacher is like a candle – it consumes itself to light the way for others.” I believe Mrs. Nell Thompson Adams actually did “preach,” in her own way, as she taught my first-grade class.

“I have taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have led thee in right paths” (Proverbs 4:11).

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