The Daily Populous Monday October 27th, 2025 evening edition
Authored by npr.org and submitted by guanaco55

How one teacher's kindness changed a grieving teenager's life

Editor's note: This story discusses suicide. If you or someone you know may be considering suicide or is in crisis, call or text 9 8 8 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

This story is part of the My Unsung Hero series, from the Hidden Brain team. It features stories of people whose kindness left a lasting impression on someone else.

In 1977, when Eric Schwartz was 15 years old, his mother took her own life. The loss was unexpected and devastating.

A few days later, Schwartz, his father and his brother took a trip from their small hometown in New York to Florida.

"My dad thought it was the right place to go to get away from any reminder of my mom or anybody that we knew in town, just to kind of regroup and recover and figure out what was next," Schwartz recalled.

When they returned, Schwartz had to go back to school, but he didn't want to.

"It was awkward. Everybody knew in town what had happened. And I think it's awkward, too, for teachers when they encounter a student who had lost a parent, but it was especially awkward, I think, in my case because of the way my mother had died."

Schwartz didn't want to discuss his mother's death and was grateful that his first day back, most of his teachers didn't mention the loss.

His last class of the day was choir, with a teacher named Renato Vellutino, or Dr. V for short. Vellutino was beloved by his students and known to always be ready to lend a helping hand.

On that day, when class ended, Schwartz just happened to be one of the last students to leave the choir room.

"At the end [of class] you [had] to file out through a set of double doors that are sitting next to the piano where [Vellutino] was seated."

"And as I was walking by, he stood up from behind the piano, grabbed me and pulled me into a bear hug. And he didn't say anything. And I didn't say anything. And really, we didn't need any words," Schwartz said.

"I knew he cared about me and that he felt my pain. And that's really all that mattered."

"[That] emotional gesture really stuck with me for the rest of my life. And so, in the ensuing years, I've tried to pass along that gesture to people that I encounter that may be in pain or hurting or in trouble and need to know without any words that there's someone there who actually cares," Schwartz said.

Around 20 years after Schwartz received that hug, he got to reconnect with his former teacher at a high school reunion. The two men shared another hug and Schwartz got to tell Vellutino how much that moment meant to him.

" We got a little teary eyed [and] both of us remembered that day."

Vellutino died in 2023 at the age of 91.

My Unsung Hero is also a podcast — new episodes are released every Tuesday. To share the story of your unsung hero with the Hidden Brain team, record a voice memo on your phone and send it to myunsunghero@hiddenbrain.org.

If you or someone you know may be considering suicide or is in crisis, call or text 9 8 8 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

SkittleSeductress on October 27th, 2025 at 13:57 UTC »

Teachers seriously can be real-life superheroes. 🦸 Massive respect to those who go beyond just education to truly impact their students' lives. This story hit right in the feels! 💖

fakiresky on October 27th, 2025 at 13:37 UTC »

I teach in Japan, age 15-20 (tech vocational school). Sometimes, I see kids who could really use a hug but despite being a very friendly country in general, physical contact in the professional and educational environment is awkward at best, and frown upon at worst. Still, I managed to sneak in a few hugs through the years and I absolutely don’t regret it.

Unique-Public-8594 on October 27th, 2025 at 12:30 UTC »

My teacher pulled me into a bear hug. He didn't say anything and I didn't say anything. We didn't need any words. I knew he cared about me and that he felt my pain and that's all that mattered.

It stuck with me so I've tried to pass along that gesture to people that may be in pain or hurting or in trouble and need to know that there's someone who actually cares.