Mothers are capable in ways that don’t always get named. They adjust without being asked. They notice without being told. They carry what needs to be carried, often before anyone else realizes it needed attention in the first place and it is easy to take for granted—not because it’s small, but because it’s constant.

A teacher is a role. A profession. A job title that appears on a contract and a timetable and a staff list. There are millions of teachers in the world right now and every single one of them matters.

But THE teacher is something else. 

Purpose, in its most useful form, is not a dramatic discovery. It is a quiet orientation. A direction of travel. A set of values, held consistently, that guide the small decisions of an ordinary day. You probably already have it. You may just not be calling it that.