The loved teacher

I once knew a well loved teacher. His lectures were famed for the wise insights. He was loved for his wisdom and loving advice. His followers worshipped him. He travelled far abroad, became well known, his fame increasing further. All went well until one day while he was far from home he received a phone call from one of his grandchildren;

‘Grandpa, it’s my birthday, will you be coming?’

It startled him, for a moment he was taken aback. He stammered, ‘Grandpa loves you, but...’ and at that moment he realized that for the umpteenth time he had entirely forgotten his family. Fortunately he was able to recover himself quickly and once more he turned his attention exclusively to his audience.

The feelings which had upset him were silenced by reasoning that the large number of people to whom he meant so much were more important that his grandchildren, his family, his friends. If they still could not understand that they would do so later on. He once more became the brilliant teacher, yet deep down inside the hurt continued.

That night he dreamt. He dreamt about a house with a beautiful facade: on the outside it was exquisitely adorned with beautiful ornaments, the window and door frames had a fine finish and looked well cared for. On the inside it was a different story, the doors hung in their hinges, the floor was rotted through and three of the outer walls had fallen in. When the facade collapsed as well, the master was able to jump out of danger just in time.

All through the next day he thought about his dream. The teacher was always very open, he never held anything back for his followers. He was their equal yet he did not dare to tell them about this dream.

When weeks later he finally arrived home he felt empty; things did not seem to fit properly any more, he felt the urge to return to his followers immediately. His wife tried her best to make him comfortable. She asked all sorts of

questions and showed interest in his adventures yet he felt at loss for words to answer her properly. His family came by that evening, children and grandchildren came to visit. Though they were all happy to see him again he felt like a

stranger. Later when he was once more alone with his wife she asked; ‘what is the matter with you?’ Then she said, ‘come and sit beside me on the sofa.’ The teacher had a difficult time, this was the moment he had to decide whether to keep hiding behind his role or to sit beside his wife and tell her how empty and lonely he felt and how he missed his children. Now was the time he could come home and once again be a husband, a father and grandfather. The next day he cancelled all his lectures.