My husband received this letter today:
"I read with sadness in my private school's alumni bulletin of your father's recent passing. Here below, for your family, is a personal reminiscence of this unusual, lovely man.
I studied Arabic and Near Eastern Studies with your father in 197x, and I remember, as if it were yesterday, sitting with our small class in his home at the school. As class began, he insisted we have tastes of exotic delicacies he offered us on a tray. When we protested we were not hungry (this was an evening class, after dinner) he rejoined, in his musical singsong voice with a twinkle in his eye, "One does not eat because one is hungry, one eats because food is offered." We dutifully partook of a morsel or two before delving into the dramatic history of this distant part of the world none of us had ever seen.
Thanks to your father, the Middle East began that year to open up in color and joy. Ever since it has seemed to me both human and accessible, even as the world news would have us believe it different and dangerous. I have never forgotten the warm way it was introduced to me.
My deepest sympathies and gratitude to all your family."
I studied Arabic and Near Eastern Studies with your father in 197x, and I remember, as if it were yesterday, sitting with our small class in his home at the school. As class began, he insisted we have tastes of exotic delicacies he offered us on a tray. When we protested we were not hungry (this was an evening class, after dinner) he rejoined, in his musical singsong voice with a twinkle in his eye, "One does not eat because one is hungry, one eats because food is offered." We dutifully partook of a morsel or two before delving into the dramatic history of this distant part of the world none of us had ever seen.
Thanks to your father, the Middle East began that year to open up in color and joy. Ever since it has seemed to me both human and accessible, even as the world news would have us believe it different and dangerous. I have never forgotten the warm way it was introduced to me.
My deepest sympathies and gratitude to all your family."
(New readers who aren't familiar with the stories of my father-in-law posted here over the past few years will find them collected, in reverse chronological order, under the title "The Fig and the Orchid.")
what a gift this man gave you. and it's so heartwarming after having read all your posts about your father-in-law.
Posted by: mary mccloskey | January 14, 2009 at 09:45 PM
It's always wonderful to hear from others how a family member was of influence or inspiration to them. A gift indeed.
Posted by: Marja-Leena | January 14, 2009 at 11:51 PM
And my god, this morning when Gaza is again in flames how blessed to remember the civility of teaching and learning, letter writing and hospitality, may our hearts not stay broken, may we grow past hurt and anger once again. Vivian
Posted by: Vivian | January 15, 2009 at 06:43 AM
Teachers live for these later-in-life testimonials, or at least I do. What a beautiful, posthumous award.
Posted by: Peter | January 15, 2009 at 07:21 AM
Ah. Tears in my eyes. What a lovely gift from his student.
Posted by: Kaycie | January 15, 2009 at 10:38 AM
It's the little bit extra, beyond the call of duty, the individual touch, that people so often remember. So important to keep hold of that, in our world of ever-increasing consolidation and standardization, isn't it? I don't suppose your father-in-law would have got far (or been happy) in the state sector, where there is so rarely time or space for such personal touches, in the US or anywhere, would he?
Posted by: Jean | January 15, 2009 at 10:56 AM
Oh, that's wonderful.
Posted by: dale | January 15, 2009 at 01:17 PM
Your tales of your father-in-law inspired me. He seemed to be such a wonderful man and to have lived a life that was full of richness, joy and value. I wish that I had met him. How lovely to receive such a letter
Posted by: Julie | January 15, 2009 at 02:22 PM
What a wonderful gift to receive.
For my father's 75th birthday we asked people from his past to write a letter. I am so glad my father was able to hear something of how his life had impinged upon others.
Posted by: Pat | January 15, 2009 at 03:40 PM
Kia ora Beth,
Beautiful. To have impacted lives and opened up new perspectives for even one person to me is so huge. An amazing man.
Rangimarie,
Robb
Posted by: Robb | January 15, 2009 at 08:00 PM