Tag Archives: Mr. Fish

Beyond the Broom

For many years, I served as an elementary school custodian, taking care of the building and meeting the needs of the faculty and students. It was a demanding job, but I truly loved it. My love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service, so this role suited my personality perfectly. While there were moments of frustration, everyone knew I cared deeply about them.

Teachers would often ask, “When you get a chance, could you help move some desks or clean the carpet?” My response was almost always, “How about right now?” I prided myself on being flexible. Students would come to me to pump up their balls or retrieve the ones kicked onto the roof during recess. I did it all with a smile because I wanted them to know they mattered to me.

Still, I knew I couldn’t keep up with the fast-paced and physically demanding life of a custodian forever. Some days, I walked over 10 miles while working, especially during the intense summer cleaning sessions. One summer, overwhelmed and exhausted, I realized it was time to step away. I made the decision to retire rather suddenly. A few teachers and staff knew, but most of the students didn’t find out until the next school year when I wasn’t there anymore.

Though I moved on to a less stressful job, it hasn’t been as fulfilling as working with such a wonderful community of parents, teachers, principals, and students. One day, I got off work early and decided to stop by the school during lunch to visit. I checked in at the office, and as I was signing in, a class returning from P.E. spotted me. Their faces lit up, and the teacher asked me to come into the hallway to take a picture with her class. It warmed my heart.

When I walked into the lunchroom, I saw the first graders eating lunch. The last time I’d seen them, they were just kindergartners. Without hesitation, they leapt from their seats, ran over, and surrounded me in a massive group hug. The force of their excitement almost lifted me off my feet. It was so emotional. They all knew I loved them, and I could tell they missed me just as much as I missed them. In that moment, my heart felt full—it was exactly what my soul needed.

I stayed through most of lunch, greeting students as they entered the cafeteria. Many hoped I was back for good. I explained that I wasn’t, but I had missed them and wanted to say hello. As I walked past one student, he looked up at me with  his teary eyes and said, “Mr. Fish, you never said goodbye.” His words hit me hard and reminded me of something important: we all leave an impact on the lives of others, often without realizing the depth of that impact.

Reflecting on my time at the school, I’ve come to see that the relationships I built there have lasting meaning, not only for the students but for me as well. These connections remind me of how essential small acts of care and kindness are in creating a positive and nurturing atmosphere.

Now, as I explore new paths in life, I’ve found a way to continue nurturing those connections. Essential oils have become part of my journey, helping me maintain emotional balance and bring calmness into my daily routine. Just as I once used my work to serve others, I now share these oils with those around me, offering a simple way to support their well-being. It’s another reminder that even small actions—whether retrieving a ball from the roof or sharing a soothing scent—can make a lasting impact on someone’s life.

Happy Birthday Mr. Fish

Today is my birthday. It is fun to see the nice things people can do for you. Modern technology has made it very easy to reach out to people. My wife will usually send me a very nice Facebook message with a picture of me. I think it very sweet of her. Many people will reach out to me with kind words.

One year one of the lunch ladies at my school saw a birthday post my wife sent me, then replied with her own message that read, “Happy Birthday and beware today! When I left to go to work I was surprised with two pieces of cake from my wife on the front seat of my car to take to work with another sweet note. She is so thoughtful. By the time I got to work I went from having a great day to a spectacular one.

When it was time for lunch to start the lunch lady made me a poster that said “Happy Birthday Mr. Fish with balloons. When each grade level was lined up waiting to get their food she said “make sure you say happy birthday to Mr. Fish today.” So out of 730 students at the school I think I heard Happy Birthday 900 times. When the fourth grade students came into the lunchroom they spontaneously started singing “Happy Birthday,” I was touched. It was very fun talking, and interacting with students.

I got to thinking about this experience when I realized how important it is to treat people how you want to be treated. Some of the students I talked to have never talked to me before, and several students wanted to give me a hug. Many years ago I decided to always give students respect even when you don’t feel they are respecting you. This simple act of kindness has paid off many times over. I love the students, and I know they love me.

The Power of Love

Several years ago my dad was a math teacher at East High School in Salt Lake City, Utah. I never heard him say he was going to work, He said “I am going to school.” May dad was originally going to be a dentist, and would have been an excellent one. His love was teaching, and he was great at making a difference in a child’s life. He decided to change his major to high school mathematics, and never regretted this decision.

Every year on the first day of school he would write his full name up on the chalkboard in bold letters Melvin Cottam Fish, the kids thought that was hilarious. There was usually a long line of students trying to get into his class every semester because everyone knew they would learn math effectively, and he cared.

One year he had two opposing gang members in the same class, things were getting out of control, and he knew he needed to do something fast. One of the things he did was change his classroom around so his desk would face the door. As students entered his classroom each day, in his mind he would call each student by name and say “I love you.” My dad realized there was power in the words he spoke aloud, and in his mind.

At my dads funeral there were a few students that came to pay their final respects to their beloved math teacher. One of them told my mom that they didn’t remember all of their teachers names however they remember where they sat in their math class, and knew Mr. Fish loved them. What a great tribute to my father at his passing. I know he must have been smiling and sending us more love in that moment.