Sunday, April 12, 2020
Mrs. Erickson will always be held dear and near in a place in my heart. Always a teacher who was consistently fair, compassionate, and had such a great sense of humour. I have a hard, but special memory of the person Mrs. Erickson was beyond being a favourite teacher. The day my Grandma Spornitz passed away, Dad came to the school to pick us girls up. Leah scooted up to the office right away when we were called up, but I hesitated, since being in grade two, I’d never been called to the office before and was terrified I was in trouble for some unknown reason. Mrs. Erickson calmly reassured me and guided me out to the hall, and was going to accompany me upstairs, but Dad had already come down to get me. We met in the hall. One look at Dad and she knew he’d lost his Mom. She hugged him, and I didn’t understand until she said, “Oh John, I am so sorry.” I looked at Dad and asked, “Daddy, did Grandma die?” He didn’t speak, just nodded. She then hugged us both, this tiny woman whose height I matched in grade two, with such enveloping love and caring that she could’ve been eight feet tall. After, with teary smiles, and a feeling that things might be a little bit okay after all, Dad took my hand and we left. You left us a year to the day after Dad, Mrs. Erickson, and I know he’ll be waiting to give you a hug. Thank you for loving us so well that day, and for caring so well for all of your students every day through the years.
