About 9 years ago a much younger version of me sat in a PSHE class at school. (I know – I still can’t believe how long ago it was since I left secondary school). This was a fairly standard occurrence (it happened once a week in fact) but the events of this particular lesson have stuck with me ever since.

As was typical for soon to be school leavers, we were discussing as a class our plans for the future, and what we thought we were going to do next. At 15, I had already known for some time what I wanted to be when I was older, what I was going to need to study at college, and ultimately, what degree I was going to have to do (I was an avid planner in those days!) And I told my tutor as much, adding that as both my older brother and sister had got a 2:1 in their degrees, this was my target, because I wanted to be as good as them.

In response, Mr K looked straight at me, and told me that I should never settle for anything less than the best. If my siblings both got 2:1s, then I should aim for nothing less than a First, and prove myself to not only be as good them, but in fact, better.

7 years later, I graduated from University with a First Class Honours Degree in Youth and Community Work with Practical Theology (and yes – that was the degree I had planned all those years before). I couldn’t help but think about that day when Mr K suggested to me that this could be possible. It had clearly had a profound impact on me.

A few months ago I was recalling this to my Mum, thinking about my time at both school and university, and sharing how much I respected Mr K, and how great a teacher he really was. For some time I had considered the idea of going back and visiting my secondary school, finding Mr K and thanking him for that timeless piece of advice that he had given me. Now, post degree, it seems much more significant than just talking about University. We all at times need to refuse to settle for anything less than the best. But I didn’t go back to school, despite it being only a 3 minutes walk away from my home. My reason? I was scared that Mr K wouldn’t remember who I was, and that the whole thing might just be a little bit too awkward.

So why am I sharing all of this with you? I wouldn’t blame you for asking. And if you did ask me, this is what I would say.

2 weeks ago I received the tragic news that Mr K had died. Still teaching at the school, a healthy man in his (at a guess) early 40s, went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up the next day. And when I heard this news, one of the first thoughts that came into my head was how I had never had the opportunity to say thank you. How my ridiculous fear of not being recognised had prevented me from telling another human being how much they were appreciated and respected. How he died, not knowing that I got a First in my degree, or how much of an impact he had made in my life. And for all of this, I felt a genuinely deep sadness.

What a missed opportunity! I know – it probably doesn’t sound like much. And in the scheme of things I suppose it really isn’t. There is a real possibility that had I gone to visit him, he wouldn’t have remembered me. Goodness knows how many students he has taught since I left that school, and I’m sure he didn’t stay up at night wondering what happened to all his previous students, or what degrees they went on to get at university! But I had the opportunity to show a hand of kindness, to reach out in a simple act of humanity by showing my thankfulness…and I didn’t do it.

My depth of feeling towards this these past few weeks has somewhat surprised me. I wasn’t “close” to Mr K, he wasn’t my favourite teacher (in fact I never actually had him as a subject teacher, only as my tutor for PSHE classes) but this really has struck me quite hard. He was strict, but he was also fair, and commanded the respect of almost everyone. He was wise, and he knew what he was talking about, giving good advice, and helping whenever possible.

So what reflections do I have to share with you all? Seize the day! If you have the opportunity to extend kindness to another human being – just do it. Don’t end up like me, regretting a missed opportunity. Don’t wait until tomorrow – because as I have so sadly discovered – tomorrow doesn’t always come. Life is too short. And too many people are out there competing with one another, looking for cheap shots to bring others down. Don’t be that person. Lets be the kind of people who happily offer encouragement. Who extend themselves beyond their own comfort zones to show thankfulness and appreciation. Lets give respect and honour to people where it is due, recognising and celebrating achievements when they come. We are not competing against each other. It doesn’t matter if at times it feels a little awkward. Because you never know what a difference you could make in another persons life.

My bet is that I am not the only person with a Mr K in their life. In fact, some of you reading this may be thinking of somebody that you need to thank at this very moment. If that is you, my challenge to you is – go and do it. Right Now. Or at least, as soon as possible. Don’t put it off. But even if there isn’t anybody right now, I hope that you will all learn from me on this one, as I now have learned, to be people of thankfulness and gratitude at every opportunity. And never to take anything,  or anyone, for granted. Rest in peace Mr K – you were one of the good ones.