Mrs. Thren

My fourth grade teacher was a woman named Mrs. Thren. She actually has a first name, of course – Jane – but, back then, she was Mrs. Thren, and, in truth, she will always be “Mrs. Thren” to me. She was a good teacher, and a fine person, and I will always remember Mrs. Thren.

What I remember most about my 4th grade experience with Mrs. Thren is that she had us work on maps, identifying countries, cities, mountain ranges, and the like. I always loved these activities, and, to this day, have had something of a fascination with maps. I recall that Mrs. Thren would place “dots” where the cities appeared, for instance, and then we were supposed to write the correct city next to its “dot.” The same went for the mountain ranges, and so on. This was a lot of fun, and it was a good way to learn.

Something else which lingers fondly in my memory about Mrs. Thren was the evening when she and her husband (Mr. Thren, of course) came over to my house for dinner and post-dinner board game playing. Nowadays, this sort of thing would be unheard of, but those were more trusting – I would even argue, more sane – times, and Mrs. Thren gladly RSVPed to my offer to join my mother, brother, and me (or is it “I”? – Mrs. Thren would surely know!) for the evening. Though I do not recall the specifics of the evening, what I am certain of is that a good time was had by all, and a mutual bond of affection was deepened. That was special to me, and I will never forget it.

One other anecdote springs immediately to mind when I think of Mrs. Thren: the ride to school in her Volkswagen Beetle. Once again, those were more trusting times, and, thankfully, I reaped the benefit of the ethos, getting a chance to take the four minute drive to school with Mrs. Thren in her little car. I felt truly special that day, having the good fortune to ride to school with my teacher. (This was about a year or two before I became “too cool” to appreciate such opportunities.) Here, again, is a little reminder that the small acts, the “going the extra mile” deeds, the “personal touches,” are the ones that are long remembered…and cherished.

Mrs. Thren, I want you to know that you are remembered – and remembered fondly. You were a fine teacher, a woman whose kindness was as unmistakable as the quality of her cursive writing. You made a difference in my life, and I thank you for that. I hope that you and Mr. Thren are enjoying your retirement years at this point, and that, from time to time, you help another youngster with his or her geography lessons.