I always hated math... I should capitalize that. I always HATED math. I had a block about it, I just didn't get it no matter how I tried. Every year in school got a little worse. I was never at risk of failing, per se, but I must have winged it a lot because I just didn't grasp the concepts. Enter 8th grade... as always I dreaded math class most of all. Shivers. Our new teacher was tall and thin... long thin fingers with nails that had been chewed off (yes, I noticed those things when I was supposed to be listening to the lesson.) But then he started coming to each student separately and asking our problem areas. I don't know how I answered that, but I have to assume that my answer shocked him considering they were *all* problem areas. But I started getting it. With the individual attention he gave to each student, I started getting it. I think I ended up with a B in math that year. Amazing for me considering that I had to scrape for Cs previously and probably had more Ds. I hated that so much because I was a straight A and B student... until it came to the dreaded math. Anyhow, last year I mentioned to my class group on Facebook that there were two teachers I wish I could thank. One of them has died... the other, my math teacher, happened to be someone a classmate knows. She told him about the post and he contacted me and told me he "got the thank you." It doesn't stop there.... he said that in all these years, I was the first former student who ever said thank you or said he made a difference. After all those decades, I was able to pay it forward, so to speak, and make a difference in *his* life. Good feeling!