I was thinking recently about how just one person in your corner can make a world of difference in how you see yourself.

Do you have someone like that?

I do.

I’ve been blessed with an incredible family who has always believed in me, but today I found myself thinking about someone outside of my family—my second-grade teacher, Mrs. Pavlovich. (I may not be spelling her name correctly. After all, second grade was quite a while ago!) Even though I’m not sure of the spelling, I remember everything else about her so clearly.

You see, when you’re dyslexic, school can already feel like an uphill climb. Words don’t always behave the way everyone says they should. Reading feels slower. Spelling feels impossible. Then add a first-grade teacher who, whether intentionally or not, made you question everything about yourself, and you walk into second grade carrying a backpack much heavier than books.

I was nervous. I was afraid I’d never be good enough.

But the moment I walked into Mrs. Pavlovich’s classroom, something felt different.

She smiled—not just at the children who seemed naturally smart or the ones who always had the right answers—but at every child who walked through her door. She spoke with kindness where I had experienced criticism. She encouraged instead of discouraged. She saw possibilities instead of limitations.

She made learning feel like an adventure.

She made reading fun.

Can you imagine that? Me—the little girl with dyslexia—actually looking forward to library day.

She never made me feel like I was less than anyone else. Somehow, she had a way of helping me believe that I could learn, even if my path looked different from everyone else’s. She didn’t lower the bar; she simply walked beside me as I climbed over it.

Looking back now, I realize she gave me something far greater than better reading skills.

She gave me confidence.

She helped me discover a love for books, learning, and asking questions that I still carry with me today. It’s a little ironic, really. The little girl who struggled to read grew up to love books, write a blog, and spend her days learning and teaching others. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.

I’ve often wondered how different life might have been if I had never walked into her classroom.

Our families help shape who we become, and I will always be grateful for mine. But the world outside our homes can sometimes be a lonely place. When a child—or even an adult—feels unseen, unheard, or not good enough, one encouraging person can change the direction of an entire life.

We rarely realize the power our words hold.

A smile.
A kind sentence.
A little extra patience.
Believing in someone before they believe in themselves.

Those small moments often become the memories people carry for decades.

I’m in my fifties now, and here I am still remembering a second-grade teacher who probably had no idea the impact she was making. She was simply doing what came naturally to her—loving her students well.

Isn’t that amazing?

I think our world needs more Mrs. Pavlovichs.

People who choose encouragement over criticism.
Grace over judgment.
Kindness over impatience.

Because you never know whose life you’re changing.

Maybe today you’ll be that person for someone else.

Maybe your kind words will become the voice they hear years from now when they’re wondering if they’re enough.

I hope they do.

Thank you, Mrs. Pavlovich, wherever you are. Thank you for believing in one little girl who struggled to believe in herself. Your kindness didn’t stay in a second-grade classroom—it has echoed through my entire life.

And I pray that, in some small way, I can pass that same gift on to someone else.