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Dear Mr. Rupp,

    The day I met you was the first day of high school. We liked each other immediately. You gave me a lot of advice over the next four years, like how I should get my ass to Berkeley where I belonged. I'm still there, by the way. I wish you were still around, too.

    I remember your laugh, which would start with a rough guffaw(狂笑) and end with a hacking smoker's cough that would make even the most rebellious (叛逆的) teenager decide to lay off the cigarettes. I remember the way you didn't lower your standards, yet still refused to give up on us. You were tough on us, and we were tough on you. Love is tough sometimes.

    The last time I wrote you a letter, it was 2005—four years after I graduated. I had just become a teacher, like you, and it had given me a new appreciation for the work you did with countless high school students over the years.

    It's hard to say what I'll miss the most about you. There are simply too many memories to sort through those four years, and it hurts to think you'll never read this letter. I want to believe that you knew how much you meant to your family, your students, your community, and your colleagues, but that would be a lot of realization to handle, even for you.

    You changed the lives of everyone around you. Even now, you are reminding me to cherish life and its brevity and beauty, and to tell the people I love how much they mean to me before it is too late.

    Dear teacher, dear mentor, and dear friend—I miss you and all that is about you. God bless you in Heaven.

To infinity and beyond,

Teresea