Teacher finds some lessons just too painful to learn.

Byline: WRITE ON By Colleen Wright For The Register-Guard

I knew a boy once. His name was Alexander. Ironically, he died of Alexander's Disease.

A name bursting with nobility. A name used seemingly for royalty. King Alexander, in one small world, our small world. A classroom world, where friendships became more important than math and comfort took priority over reading. A classroom where the teacher became the student in the core content area of death. A new curriculum was established, complete with daily lesson plans on pain management, tube feedings, aspirating and, of course, a reward system simply for living.

There is no beginning or end to the daily lessons to be learned from watching someone too young die too soon. They don't come from history books, book reports or world maps.

No, these lessons come from wrapping oneself around a frail and failing body and hoping that each breath isn't the last. Lessons that come from looking into the eyes of a little boy who knows with certainty that death lingers and finding the courage to maintain his gaze.

Learning that there are no satisfying answers to endless questioning from inquisitive, honest, compassionate classmates seeking protection from the fragility of life. Answering the most difficult questions fearlessly and with confidence? Ha! A lesson never mastered and one in which this teacher flunked miserably.

Lessons? Oh, there are the classic lessons: Life is not measured in length but to the fullness to which it is lived. If you choose life, life will not let you down. If you live with peace, trust, patience and love, it is possible to beat the odds, time and time again.

Alex outlived his life expectancy by six years and, as a rule, with a smile.

A classroom motto was born. However, it was not based on traditional work ethic or classroom standards. It wasn't even based on teaching tolerance or respecting differences. Posted above Alex's classroom bed were these words: "For some, hope adds time to their life, for others, hope adds life to their time." A mystery to be sure, but this mystery gave us purpose in the long wait for an everlasting sleep.

There is no university, accredited program or teacher mentorship that can prepare a teacher to lead quality instruction in the three R's to a diverse group of learners while providing hospice throughout the instructional day. Lessons are often learned the hard way.

It's not a good idea to expect students to stay on task in handwriting when you've just administered oral medication to someone whose ability to swallow has been lost. It's difficult to determine when providing an education ends and a push to stay home begins. Will attending school facilitate the strength for one more day?

Witnessing a fighter die changes the hearts and lives of those involved. It unites people as family and teaches us that one life connects so many.

Alex surprised his classmates and teachers with a pop quiz on the human spirit. Some of us passed, while others failed (and some even stayed for the final exam).

His story is the greatest lesson. A required "chapter book" that provides solace, nourishment and inspiration to find the courage to live truthfully. It leaps the boundaries of a lesson and becomes a gift.

I knew a boy once. He's gone, but his gifts remain.

Colleen Wright, 36, of Eugene, is a special education teacher with the Eugene School District.

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