Well, hello, my friends, and welcome to the live-inspired podcast with John O'Leary for this week's

Monday moments. We create them to help start your week on fire with a quick burst of inspiration. As we step back into

the school year, I wanted to share the story of one of the finest and most profound teachers I've

ever had in my life. The last time I saw Kathy Collins, that teacher, was at her house. Her husband, Jack, met me at the front door.

He shook my hand in his and guided me back through the house to see his wife.

She was in their family room.

She was resting in a large hospital bed.

Kathy had white hair.

She wore the rim glasses that I remember it even from those days as a child,

and she had that brilliantly bright smile still on her face. Kathy had joy in her voice as she

welcomed me into her home. Before this visit, it had been more than 20 years since we'd seen one

another. After learning that she'd been diagnosed with

cancer and not responding well to the treatment, I wanted to see her. I wanted to visit with her,

and I wanted to thank her. You see, two decades earlier, the situation was reversed. I was scared.

I was medicated. I was a little kid recovering from burns and a hospital bed.

I had bandages over my entire body, was connected to various machines, and was being prepared to finally go home.

She was called in to tutor this nine-year-old boy who was in pain, could not focus, had no fingers, and didn't really care for school much in the first place.

Kathy walked into my hospital room.

She pulled back that curtain around my bed, stepped into my life, flashed that brilliant smile, and she changed everything.

Kathy did not see bandages or scars.

She didn't see disabilities or insurmountable odds. Instead,

this fine teacher saw a little boy who needed more time to heal, required a lot of help,

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