I remember my teacher Mrs. Pietsch. I remember her because she taught history and that knowledge is still with me. Sacajawea has stayed with me since fifth grade because of Mrs. Pietsch, and she is still pointing toward the Pacific Ocean.
Desoto came from Spain and I can see him with his metal helmet. I understand Columbus’ men rebelling because they feel Columbus is taking them on a wild trip across a flat world. Queen Isabella (Isabel in Spanish) backs Columbus. Ah, now I know the Spanish are my faraway ancestors and perhaps some are involved in this trip. I can pronounce the names of the conquistadores or explorers.
Patrick Henry is speaking to the House of Delegates and I hear him because of Mrs. Pietsch, and I know he is supporting the right cause because Mrs. Pietsch is smiling as she speaks of him.
And she warns us, “Don’t ask questions of the veterans of WWII because they don’t want to talk about what horrors they have seen.” So, young as we are, we almost tiptoe when a veteran is near.
Oh, to be a teacher like Mrs. Pietsch. Perhaps that is why I chose that career, and maybe that is why History is my favorite subject. “Sacajawea, what do you think?”
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