The mind is marvelous thing, for sure. It is most certainly the first computer ever.

And the part that actuates memory is utterly amazing. It is a veritable storehouse of bits and pieces, some whole, some fragmented, of the experiences of one’s life.

So. On with my tale.

One of my very favorite movies, of all time, is “Goodbye, Mr. Chips.” It starred Robert Donat and Greer Garson, and featured a host of English lads. It was released in May, 1939. (I was 3 months old.)

You may remember the storyline. Mr. Chips is a master (teacher) at an English boys school. His is a quiet, orderly life. He is single, and lives in small quarters on campus. He seemingly has no prospects as to changing his marital status.

And then, to his surprise and wonder, a beautiful lady comes into his life. How that unfolded I’ll not go into here, for I hope some of you might be moved to watch — or watch again — the movie.

At the end, and I’ll not get into specifics, Mr. Chips is retired — his dream of becoming headmaster never realized — and living alone.

Sitting in his chair, eyes closed, in a dream — a reverie — an almost endless procession of boys, from across all the many years, passes by him, each, in turn, saying, “Goodbye, Mr. Chips.”

Even writing this, my eyes become wet. But maybe that’s just me. Even if so, I am grateful for such an emotion.

In a very similar way, I can often see the faces of so many boys and girls that I coached, and taught, and who were a part of my life at different times and in different places. But that is a story, perhaps, for another time.

“Goodbye, Mr. Chips” is truly a classic, done in a typically understated, marvelously English way.
I believe it will touch your heart.

As it did mine.

APROPOS — “Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us.”

— Oscar Wilde