To The Teachers out There~

To The Teachers out There~

The Little Boy

by Helen E Buckley

Once a little boy went to school.
One morning,
When the little boy had been in school awhile,
The teacher said:
"Today we are going to make a picture."
"Good!" thought the little boy.
He liked to make pictures.
He could make all kinds.
Lions and tigers,
Chickens and cows, trains and boats.
He took out his box of crayons
And began to draw.
But the teacher said: "Wait!
It is not time to begin!"
And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,
"We are going to make flowers."
"Good!" thought the little boy.
He liked to make flowers,
And he began to make beautiful ones
With his pink and orange and blue crayons.

But the teacher said, "Wait!
And I will show you how."
And it was red, with a green stem.
"There," said the teacher.
"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked at the teacher's.
The he looked at his own flower.
He like his flower better than the teacher's.
But he did not say this.
He just turned his paper over
And made a flower like the teacher's.
It was red, with a green stem.

On another day, the teacher said:
Today we are going to make something with clay."
"Good!" thought the little boy.
He liked clay.

"Now," said the teacher,
"We are going to make a dish."
He liked to make dishes.
And he began to make some
That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said, "Wait!
And I will show you how."
And she showed everyone how to make
One deep dish.

"There," said the teacher.
"Now you may begin."
The little boy looked at the teacher's dish.
Then he looked at his own.
He like his dish better than the teacher's.
But he did not say this.
He just rolled his clay into a big ball again
And made a dish like the teacher's.
It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon
The little boy learned to wait,
And to watch,
And to make things just like the teacher.
And pretty soon
He didn't make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened
That the little boy and his family
Moved to another house
In another city,
And the little boy
Had to go to another school.

And the very first day
He was there,
The teacher said:
"Today were are going to make a picture."
"Good!" thought the little boy,
And he waited for the teacher
To tell him what to do.
But the teacher didn't say anything.
She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy
She said, "Don't you want to make a picture?"
"Yes," said the little boy.
"What are we going to make?"
"I don't know until you make it,"
Said the teacher.
"How shall I make it?" asked the little boy.
"Why, anyway you like," said the teacher.
"And any color?" asked the little boy.
"Any color," said the teacher.
"If everyone made the same picture,
And used the same colors,
How would I know who made what,
And which was which?"
"I don't know," said the little boy,
and he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

It totally blew me away. This might be the situation in Singapore context. *sighs* Just praying that I wont be the teacher in the poem. It'll be awfully sad.

Tough Road Ahead!

Olga J. Weiss wrote this poem The Road Is too Rough

"The road is too rough," I said,
"Dear Lord, there are stones that hurt me so."
And He said, "Dear child, I understand,
I walked it long ago."
"But there's a cool green path," I said;
"Let me walk there for a time."
"No child," He gently answered me,
"The green path does not climb."
"My burden," I said, "Is far too great,
How can I bear it so?"
"My child," He said, "I remember the weight;
I carried My cross, you know."
But I said, "I wish there were friends with me
Who would make my way their own."
"Oh, yes," He said, "Gethsemane
Was hard to bear alone."
And so I climb the stony path,
Content at last to know
That where my Master had not gone,
I would not need to go.
And strangely then I found new friends,
The burden grew less sore;
And I remember - long ago
He went that way before.