Since moving to the new office, I've been receiving some visitors. Cheerful visitors who came with wide smiles that brighten up my day. I feel honored that they still remember me and they had taken the time to pay me a visit.
They were my students from the previous semesters. The path of our lives crossed for only about fourteen weeks; that is the number of weeks in one semester. Relatively a very short time in their years of studying. And I am just another teacher, one who had contributed just a little in their life as a student.
Last week, another two of them came and we had a nice conversation.
But minutes after they left, I was in tears. Unexpectedly.
I was happy to know that they would be graduating soon. But somehow I had a troubled feeling inside, it was a feeling that I couldn't understand. I worried. I felt like I was about to let go of someone into a wide ocean and I was deeply concerned about their safety.
Hundreds, and possibly thousands of students from my classes have graduated. It is part of Allah's plan that they were in my classes. They were sent to me by Allah and twice a week, for fourteen weeks, they were there with me in my class with notes and pens, ready to learn.
What have I taught them?
Have I done enough as a teacher?
And what kind of teacher was I?
Everything had been recorded. Every single word spoken, every single action taken.
And, one day I shall be held accountable.