A special surprise awaited me in my French 3 class this morning.

As a student entered the room, she announced that my book was coming out today and wasn’t I excited and couldn’t we read a section of it in class right then and there, instead of doing work and taking a quiz on farm animals and the verb croire?

“Don’t you have a book with you? It’s Teaching with Heart, right?” she said.

Others chimed in. “Did you write a book about us?” “Where can I get it?” “What’s in it?”

Cell phones magically appeared. Several students blurted out that they were ordering the book. I didn’t tell them to put away their phones, like I usually do. I wanted others to be as passionate about my book as I was. Only one colleague had congratulated me that day.

But Liz had remembered from last year when I’d asked her if she would help me with social media. I didn’t use Instagram or Twitter, and evidently social media was essential for success in the book publishing world. So, last spring, she had helped me set up an Instagram account.

I announced to the class thad, yes, I had a book coming out that day. Liz wrote the book’s title on the board, and asked if had any book signing events. I did, but they were far from school. No matter.

“Why don’t you read from your book today?” asked Liz.

A cacophony of voices agreed this was a great idea.

“Do you have a book here?”

I thought a moment. Should I admit that I had a few in my car or try to get students back to work by stopping this conversation?

“I have some in my car, but I can’t leave the classroom,” I said.

Students insisted that wasn’t a problem. Just get security to come and watch the class for a few minutes. Or better yet, Liz will take charge of the class for a few minutes. She could maintain order.

“No, I can’t do that,” I said, though secretly I would have loved to show them my book, and read to them, and forget about the quiz or teaching reflexive verbs in the past tense. But that would have been unprofessional. Not everyone was interested in my book–and I didn’t want it known that I was promoting my book at school.

Students egged me on to talk about the book. So, for a minute or two, I explained what it was about–yes, I had failed as a teacher in one school, and that hadn’t felt good. My nephew had drawn some illustrations in the book, and I had provided advice about the teaching profession. I was critical of myself, but eventually, as the students said, I had learned to teach with heart.

And that was the day’s lesson. I had shown them a side of me that was personal. I hadn’t been afraid to let them see my faults. I had basked in their enthusiasm for me, a teacher, who one said, might become a famous writer. They had smiled, laughed, enjoyed themselves–and I had too. An unexpected event on a festive Halloween day with kids and teachers in costumes, which had warmed my heart, a moment we will always remember.