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Most articles I have seen about favorite teachers are written about one they had in high school. Although I did have a favorite teacher from those years as a teenager, the teacher who set my stage of learning for the rest of my life was my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Worthsmith.

The first time I saw Mrs. Worthsmith was when I was in 4th grade on the playground. She was standing in the shadow of the school building with several students around her. She had chestnut brown hair with a wide streak of white that started in the middle in front to just past her left eye sweeping back into her hair toward the crown. To a 4th grader she wasn't a little person. In actuality, she probably stood at about 5' 7" and weighed about 150lb. That particular day she was wear what it called a tent dress. (This style only lasted one season.) What I found so astounding was the colors and pattern of the material of her dress. Her dress literally looked like the tarp used for a circus tent. The main color was a rich yellow. The strips were the other primary and secondary colors. What teacher would wear something that stood out from everyone else? Mrs. Worthsmith, that's who. During the next couple of months before school let out for the summer, I found out from friends who had older brothers and sisters that either you were a student who loved her or you were a student who hated her. There didn't seem to be any no middle ground.

My elementary school was big enough so that two teachers were assigned to grades 1 through 4 and 3 teachers were assigned to grade 5 and 6. All summer long I was oblivious to who my teacher would be. I was too busy playing. In August, just 3 weeks away from when school would start, my parents got a letter from the school saying who my teacher would be. When the letter was handed to me that evening, all I could think was that my 5th grade year wouldn't be boring anyway.

On my first day of school as a 5th grader, I charged up the steps of the south entrance, walked through the hall of the 1st and 2nd graders, and pushes the metal doors of the stairwell to the second floor. When I opened the metal door of the second floor, I could see the doorway of the 5th grade class room of the French teacher (never did not her name). Just to the right of that door was the doorway to Mrs. Worthsmith's classroom. I walk in seeing that only three other students were there and Mrs. Worthsmith was not. I chose the seat with the attached table in the middle row one chair back from the

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