(I am a graduate student, and always go to look at pieces in the summer art festival across the street from my campus. One particular booth from a married couple is my favorite, featuring carved and layered steel heated with a blowtorch so that it changed colors; they are there yearly, and I always take a long time admiring their pieces. After a few years of this, I am apparently recognized when I go back to look at their pieces again very near the end of the festival.)

Artist: “I see you’re lurking over here again.”

Me: “Yes, I just love your work. It’s outside of my budget as a graduate student, but it’s great for me that I can come and look at it here.”

Artist: “Oh, I understand about being a student. What is it you’re studying?”

(I explain a little about the somewhat technical scientific field I’m in.)

Artist: “Oh, good, you’re a scientist. So let me tell you about this new process we’ve been working on, and how we can get different effects by changing the fire application…”

(She then proceeds to explain a new style they’ve been developing, and how it differs from some of their previous work, and I ask a few questions about it.)

Artist: “Are you going to be here for a few more minutes? I’d like to get your contact information for our mailing list, in case we’re doing shows other places near you, like when you’re visiting family over the holidays or that.”

Me: “Sure!”

(I fill out the form while she walks away to handle something… and comes back a few minutes later with a small box. I see she’s transferred all my contact information onto a receipt.)

Artist: “I feel better knowing that at least some of my pieces have gone to people who really appreciate them. So I’d like you to have this one at no charge, to start your collection.”

(I’ve since graduated, and bought a few of their pieces now that I’m no longer on a student budget, but that first one is still hanging on my bedroom wall. And I’m still floored by it.)

(I have just finished high school and am visiting an orientation day at a college in my city, together with my mother. I have always loved art and carry up to three sketch books and supplies with me at all times. I am very shy and had a bad experience with school up till now. My mom and I sit down at one of the booths where teachers from the school are giving information on a personal level.)

Teacher #1: “We have a number of different educations here. Like programming, desktop publishing, game art, and many others!”

Me: *surprised and hopeful* “You can become a game artist…?”

Teacher #1: “Yes, indeed. Do you have any experience with art and games?”

Me: *takes out my main sketchbook and put it in front of him* “I love to draw and play several games. Is this any good…?” *nervous anticipation*

(The teacher proceeds to look through some of the pages. Meanwhile, the teacher at the next booth over apparently overhears while helping another prospective student.)

Teacher #2: *grabs my sketchbook from the other teacher and shows my drawings to the girl he’s helping* “See here? If you can draw like this you can be sure you will at least be accepted for your drawing skills.” *the teacher gives my sketchbook back to me*

Me: *blushes nervously at the unexpected indirect compliment* “T-thank you. Do you really think I can apply?”

Teacher #2: *enthusiastic* “You definitely should! Go up there right now and apply!”

(I and my mother thank the teacher(s) and go up to a separate classroom where applications are handled. However, they tell us that I can’t apply for that course as I have not graduated my high school with math, which I need. My mother asks if there’s anything else we can do, but we’re waved away. I’m pretty down having my hopes crushed like that and want to head for home, but my mother rushes over to the teacher booth we were at previously.)

Mother: “Hi again, we tried to apply for game art and they told us we couldn’t apply because my daughter hasn’t graduated with math as a major.”

Teacher #2: “Now, that’s nonsense. I’ll talk with the higher-ups. Just apply and tell them I sent you there!”

Mother: *to teacher* “Thanks a lot!” *to me* “See? You just have to try!” *winks*

(I can’t believe my luck. We apply as instructed and a few weeks later it’s time for interviews and my personal math test that the teacher arranges for me as an exception. I’m placed in an empty classroom with my bag and portfolio and the math test on the computer.)

Random Employee: “The test will end once you’ve made a certain number of mistakes. After that, your interview will be with [Random Teacher] in [Classroom]. Got it?”

Me: “How many questions does this test have? How do I know when I’m done?”

Random Employee: “No one really knows. It just stops at some point, okay? Go ahead now. Call out to us once you’ve finished.”

Me: *nods head*

(The following hour-and-a-half or so, I try to answer the questions to the best of my abilities. As time goes on, I wonder when I’ll finally be done as I’m currently well over a 100 questions. Someone comes into the classroom I’m doing the test in.)

Random Employee: *surprised* “Oh, hey! You’re still here? I’m so sorry. Your interviewer already went home. We completely forgot about you!”

Me: *my stomach drops upon hearing this* “W-what do I do now?”

Random Employee: “I’m afraid you’ll just have to go home for today. The next interview date we have is on [date close to school year starting].”

(I’m feeling pretty panicky right now. If I don’t get accepted on that date, I have no time to apply to other colleges as a plan B. I get home, tell my mother what happened, and she decides to call the college.)

Mother: *on the phone* “Hello? You’re speaking to [Mother].” *explains situation* “Oh, that’s great! Well, thank you for all you’ve done for us!” *hangs up*

Me: “What did they say? Can I do the interview earlier?”

Mother: “Better even. You’ve been accepted! The one I got to speak to on the phone was that same teacher that liked your art on the orientation day. He said he accepted you on basis of what he’d seen back then!”

(I was so happy; I had gotten so lucky. I even started seeing it as a miracle. True to his word, I got accepted with just that and started in the new class I wasn’t supposed to be able to get into and without an interview. I met my best friends there and even my now boyfriend. A little over a year ago we had a baby boy and we’re immensely happy. None of it would’ve happened if it hadn’t been for that one teacher who, in my eyes, performed a miracle for me! Thanks, Teacher! I still get happy tears in my eyes when I think about this!)

(I design and create jewelry for my own business. I often take custom requests.)

Customer: “I like that piece you made, but I’d really like it in blue.”

Me: “Okay, here are the blue beads you can choose from.”

Customer: “Well, I want a blue, but not too blue. Do you have anything like that?”

Me: “These are what I have available. If you would like me to place a special order for a different shade of blue, I’d be happy to.”

(Customer looks over the options and chooses the same darn shade I offered her. I finish the piece and send her photos.)

Customer: “Wow, that’s really… blue.”

Me: “Indeed. Those are the beads you selected.”

Customer: “Hmm. Can you make it in red?”

(Cut to me, crying and drinking in the corner.)

(My art teacher is teaching us the basics of the color wheel when my friend, the class clown, is asked a question.)

Teacher: “Why does it say Blue-Green instead of Green-Blue, [Friend]?”

Friend: “Because it’s awesome.”

Class: *laughs*

(I have just made a Christening dress that needs to be marked by my teacher. I am given a baby doll to put the dress on to. The doll is hard plastic with limbs that are quite stiff. I am having difficulty getting it into the dress. I don’t want to tear the flimsy dress in the process.)

Fellow Classmate: “How are you going to be when you have a baby, seeing as you can’t even dress a doll?”

Me: “Well, the last time I checked, babies were soft, flexible, and actually had arms that bend!”