My first day of ninth grade, my teacher - a rabbi - walked in to the classroom, sat down, and then did something that I have never seen any other teacher do before or since then. He said the following:

"Write this down."

And then he gave out his home telephone number.
"Keep it somewhere safe. If you need me - at anytime - call. Now, tomorrow, or ten years from now. I am here for you now and will be here for you then."

I thought it was a) the coolest thing in the world - what teacher gives out their home phone number and b) the dumbest thing in the world - what teacher in their right mind gives out their home phone number! I thought about if he got any prank calls and if he ever regretted giving out that piece of himself to the masses.

Ninth grade and the rest of high school went by, and although he became a beloved teacher of mine, I never thought I would call him. But I did.

One night while away at college. A dear friend of mine had a medical crisis and was checked into the hospital. It was finals week and I was taking 20.5 credits at a competitive school. I called my parents in desperation for guidance and was given a stern talking to about studying hard for my finals, worrying about my grades etc. I got off the phone and was numb. Shaking. I realized for the first time in my life - and looking back now, really the only time in my life - my parents were not being supportive.

I thought for a moment. And then I picked up the phone.
And dialed the number.

It was eleven o'clock at night.

My high school teacher's voice answered the phone and I broke down as I spoke with him. He sat on the phone with me while I cried. I cannot remember what I said, or what he said to me. But I do know that when I got off the phone that night, I felt an immense sense of calm come over me.

I spent most of that week in the hospital with my friend and failed every final. It was the best decision of my life.