I met Miss Wade in 1989, when I was so very, very lucky to join her form group and A-Level History class at New College sixth form. The New College I knew was packed full of great teachers. Some of those very special people are here today.
 
The high reputation of Miss Wade’s History Department meant class sizes were large. But Miss Wade took a personal interest in every individual student. She talked with us before and after class, with a twinkle in her eyes, a brilliant wit and a focus on our futures. We knew Miss Wade was very clever and cared deeply about our progress.
 
Students identified as having Oxbridge potential were of course put under her direct tutillage. In my case, no-one in my family had been to any university and I was at high risk of being overwhelmed by the idea of Oxford. Miss Wade found a course for me, in the middle summer of sixth-form. One week at an Oxford college, to experience the tutorial system and living in college, meet others who might apply and – of course, dissect some more of history. That week demystified ‘going to Oxford’ and introduced me to one of my other best friends, who also became Margaret’s friend and who, many years later, teamed up with my parents and me to get Margaret to the church in London for her Godson’s wedding.
 
When I had a panic attack in the middle of an A-level maths exam, it was Miss Wade who was called, Miss Wade who talked me down from feeling a failure, who wrote to the exam board, who reminded me of the letter she had received from Oxford about me, who introduced me to Rescue Remedy and who refused to let me see it as anything other than another learning experience and certainly no disaster. I got in to Oxford. It changed my life. But Miss Wade changed it first.
 
The first Christmas holiday of our university lives, Miss Wade invited Mary Lenton and I to her house. She wanted to hear all about our first terms. And that was when the encouragement and generosity she showed in the classroom exploded out into the whole of my life. Miss Wade became Margaret. Every Christmas Margaret’s living room clock chimed on and on, ignored by 3 bright women discussing. One year it was past 4:30am before we reluctantly left and only partly in jest that Margaret said “perhaps next year you could bring sleeping bags!”
 
More than once Margaret has said to me I am very lucky in my little Pantheon of friends. I’m not convinced it was luck. I think we shone a little back on her of what she always shone on others.
 
Recently, when I was struggling with a personal situation Margaret said – and this is a direct quote: “You’re excellent in every way as a human being and nothing can change my mind. Perhaps if you went into serial killing… ”  - and she went on to explain it would have to be a particular bad kind of serial killing. 
 
How many of us have been uplifted – and how many times – by a conversation with Margaret. Her wit, her keen intelligence, her wide range of interest and knowledge, her deep personal interest in us.
 
Across more than 3 decades, Margaret and have I discussed many topics, but we only really disagreed on two things: the musical primacy of Mozart (I favoured Beethoven); and how I got in to Oxford: I got in because of Margaret Wade - and countless others achieved countless things because of her. She always refused to take any credit. But I know how much Margaret shaped my history. And future. And the lives of all her students and friends.
 
Towards the end of a recent call, Margaret told me: “You have increased the Tigger factor in my day.”   Margaret Wade increased the Tigger factor in my whole life. In all our lives. Teacher, mentor, guide, cheerleader and one of my greatest friends. A brilliant, bright, beautiful, knowledgeable, fun, loving, generous friend. I am so lucky to have had Margaret Wade in my life and in my corner for more than 31 years. Outstanding teacher. Treasured friend. Thank you.