It was my fifth grade teacher who introduced the idea that

Hear the words of Lauren DeStefano, who spoke with remembrance and gratitude: “It was my fifth grade teacher who introduced the idea that writing could be more than a hobby for me.” Though simple in tone, these words carry the weight of transformation, for they reveal the sacred moment when a child’s gift is recognized and called forth into destiny. It is in such moments, often quiet and unnoticed by the world, that entire futures are born.

The power of the teacher is not only to instruct, but to awaken. Many pass through life never knowing the fullness of their talent, because no voice arose to say, “This is more than pastime; this is purpose.” But DeStefano’s teacher spoke, and the veil was lifted. What had been mere enjoyment became vocation. What had been play with words became the first steps of authorship. This is the mystery of influence: the right word, spoken at the right time, can redirect the whole course of a life.

The ancients knew this truth well. Recall the tale of Socrates, who never wrote books himself but whose questions stirred his student Plato into the depths of philosophy. Without Socrates, Plato’s genius might never have been kindled. Without Plato, Aristotle would not have carried forth the torch. And without Aristotle, Alexander the Great might never have dreamed of conquering the world with more than swords—with ideas. Thus, one teacher’s influence became the seed of empires.

In the same way, a fifth grade teacher saw in a child’s stories not mere scribbles, but the fire of imagination. That recognition gave birth to courage. From that seed, DeStefano grew into the writer who would one day share worlds with countless readers. This reminds us that greatness does not always begin with thunder—it begins with the whisper of encouragement. It begins when one soul says to another: “This gift is real. Do not let it die.”

The meaning of this saying also speaks to the nature of writing itself. To the child, writing may seem a game, a hobby, an amusement. But to the awakened heart, writing becomes a calling—the shaping of reality with words, the weaving of truth into story, the bearing of one’s inner world into the light. It is no small thing to be told that such power lies within you, and no small thing to believe it. For belief turns talent into vocation, and vocation into destiny.

The lesson, O listener, is this: never underestimate the words you speak to another, especially to the young. To you it may seem passing, but to them it may be revelation. You may be the voice that awakens their path. And if you are the one who carries a gift, never dismiss it as mere pastime. Seek the voice of the teacher, and if no teacher comes, learn to be that teacher to yourself. Recognize your own fire, and fan it into flame.

Practical action is clear: encourage others when you see their gifts, even in small beginnings. Praise the child who draws, the friend who sings, the stranger who dreams. Say, “This could be more than a hobby; this could be your path.” And for yourself, return to the passions of your youth. Ask: what did I love before the world told me to be practical? For within that memory may lie the voice of your true calling, waiting to be remembered.

So let the words of Lauren DeStefano endure: “It was my teacher who showed me that writing could be more than a hobby.” Let them remind you that destiny often begins in a classroom, with a small encouragement, with a seed of belief. Carry this truth, and be both student and teacher in your own journey. For in honoring your gifts, you honor the Source who placed them within you, and in speaking life into the gifts of others, you become a guide for generations yet to come.