Come With Me

There are three separate little stories I would like to share to illustrate various truths which have occurred to me.  I will begin with little Nessie and how she needed to use the bathroom during Art class.  She was given permission to go, but when she entered the hall, she found that it was filled with 4th graders and these giants, she reported, would not allow her to pass through to reach the girls' room.  I took her by the hand and said, "Nessie, come with me, I will get you to the bathroom."
Taking my hand, she proudly strutted through the big kids and I released her into the restroom.
Walking back to Art, I was reminded that we can walk through giants, as long as we are holding The Capable Hand.

Story #2:  Mr. Red Shirt from way back in September was acting out a little by snipping paper into confetti.  Making a mess around his desk and then leaving for Resource room.  When he arrived back after his class outside of my classroom, I took him by the arm and pointed out to him the semi-shambles of papyrus he had left. I handed him the little pan and brush and he struggled momentarily to collect the snippets.  When I saw he had difficulty, I took the pan and brush and sat next to him and said, "My friend, is it not difficult to be a janitor?  Mrs. Diehm finds it difficult to work with the pan and brush, too.  I don't like it, I don't like to clean up floors one, single bit."  Paulie seemed to understand.  I continued, "Paulie, could you kindly do me a favor and help me not to have to be a janitor while in the classroom?  Would you please be sure not to cut up the paper like that, just cut out what you need to and leave your area neat?"  He replied in the affirmative.

Next day, he cut out a butterfly, leaving only one large scrap, the outline of that butterfly.

Requests are better followed when they have good reason to be so.

Story number three - It happens to again be about Paulie.  Paulie entered the classroom in quite the cranky mood.  Turns out he had missed the bus and his morning routine was just overturned.  There was no choice but to be angry, frustrated, impatient with his classmates and teachers.  I was not going to let this go, I love this little kid and want his school experience to be joyful and peaceful and purposeful.  So, I told him this true story which happened to me when I was a kid.  I had not known why this situation had to occur to me, but it was now cool that such a seemingly unnecessary event in my childhood would come in handy to help out a very unhappy little boy.

I told Paulie how I had a new dress to wear to school and how my sister had bought herself a new pair of shoes.  It made sense to me that I wear the new shoes with the new dress even though I had not secured permission to do so.  I put the new heels on and while I was walking onto the porch to walk across the street to catch my bus, my sister exits the house quite excitedly, grabs the back of my dress and announces that I must take off her shoes!  In this moment of chaos, as I was on my way to school, my new dress ripped and I had to go back into the house, hand over her shoes and take off my ruined dress.  I missed the bus.

I pointed out to Paulie that his clothes were not ripped and that he had on the shoes he wanted to be wearing.  I want to say he became exuberant at that point, but reality is that he became slightly satisfied and within the next 30 minutes he was back to himself.  The scripture which comes to mind is "God works all things together for good..."

I now understand why I had to go through that missing-the-bus experience so many years ago.

"I've Lost Everything!"

The best material for blogging can be found in the midst of my daily, everyday classroom setting if my ears stay opened and my heart remains soft.  Such was my experience this past Monday.

Believe it or not, "my" six and seven year olds authored a "how to make your favorite snack" writing piece.  After many drafts, much shared inspiration to keep them on track, I am able to write the "how to motivate little kids who would rather play than write" playbook.  And along the way, I learned how to make a really mean strawberry soda, and saw how many children find chocolate milk just rockets them to experiencing Candy Land in the flesh.

One little boy can surely talk up a storm, but when it comes to buckling down to work, well, let's just say we can only hope for the best.  I have written a little "motor, motor" and taped it on his desk which is his reminder to keep the work going...  Anyway, his writing piece was nearing completion and now he would be able to enter his work into a word frame on a laptop.  These kids finger pick along and Mr. (not) Motor Motor was very much being left in the dust compared to the pace of the class.  He had, however, successfully gotten at least the title, his name and a sentence on his page.  Suddenly, Mr. Motor Motor comes fast stepping toward me very distressed and said, "Mrs. Diehm, I've lost everything!!"

Quickly putting on my emergency-mode hat, I knelt down, embraced him and assured him I could get everything back for him, that nothing had really been lost.  No tears, he breathed and yes, even managed to smile.

What struck me is that there are times when we think we have lost it all - our joy, our security, our connections.  That is never, ever so.  It is our immature soul at work to make us just quit.  Praise the Lord Almighty, we have Him to run to, and He makes all things new...

Barbie Hair

I had an awakening of sorts about myself that is a bit on the personal side.  I care about how people perceive me.  Not that I think I stand alone in this mindset, but I think that the grip this trait has on me is a bit tight.  I like myself and I want others to like me, too, and to consider me valuable.  I value others, take an honest look at them, realize we have all been crafted uniquely to serve in the Kingdom of God.  Most people appear very pretty to me.  But when I take apart my physical appearance, I sometimes struggle with how the years are beginning to show and how those ten pounds I do not want hanging around, continue to stay an unwelcome guest.

I admire thick hair.  Always have.  Mine is quite the opposite but I have managed to accept it and sometimes even appreciate it.

One particular day in the classroom when I had not had time to "set" my hair in the morning, a little princess with beautiful thick hair looked at me, smiled and said,  "Ms. Diehm, you have Barbie hair."

Beauty shall continue to live on in the eyes of the beholder.