6 years ago, there was a girl trembling and shaking in front of her English teacher/ high school counselor’s office.

Struggling to submit the last bit of my early application to Brown, I recalled a particularly painful incident one year before that. She had called me in for a private talk, telling me that I’d conducted plagiarism, which pretty much destroyed my self esteem. After that, I tried every single thing I could to redeem myself and to prove her wrong. But that was also when I learned my first life lesson: trust once lost, is very hard to regain. She and I were never on really good terms again. Or so I thought.

Fast forward 2 years and a half after my day at her office, I got accepted to Brown already (and my admission essay was about plagiarism), and was on a road trip somewhere in California. She paid Brown a visit, and mentioned my name first thing in her email. I meant to send her a thank-you note, but my vengeful 17-year-old self came right back, and I decided not to send it.

Fast-forward to 4 years later, I was on my way to Singapore, when I thought of her again. I heard that she moved from India to Singapore, and still worked as a counselor and English teacher. I decided to write her finally. In a matter of hours, she responded me with such joy, encouraging me to come visit her school. When we finally arrived, she arranged a warm welcome, a table with some of Singaporean best treats. A lot of students came to our presentation – the best turnout among any group we ever had.

On my way out, she paused to take a selfie with me, and made me promise to keep in touch. “Next time, stay at my place!” – she said.

It’s funny, because now as I think about it, the whole time I was thinking of how SHE treated me in that first incident, yet none about how I treated her ever since. I did hold myself back from having a normal relationship with her.

But years after I graduated from high school, started my first and second job (as teacher!), I realized how much of a child I was. Teachers do make mistakes, teachers do frustrate, teachers do hurt. After all, teachers are the perfectly imperfect human creatures that every student either scares or worships, yet never really tries to befriend.

That was when I learned my second life lesson from her: Serendipity works wonder, because now I have a chance to see her again, and really see her this time, for who she really is, and not just “that English teacher who I talked about in my Brown application essay” anymore.