Novel : Nysa’s Mirror (Part 9)

Novel : Nysa’s Mirror (Part 9)

Bin is sniffling more in frustration than pain, whereas Kenneth is sitting in front of Bin sulking. His small arms are crossed defiantly over his chest. There is a forgotten fire-truck between them.

Yep, little boys and their toys. Clearly, no one won this battle, I think.

I surmise that Kenneth and Bin are not feeling so charitable towards one another just then, thus the small skirmish over who gets to play with the fire-truck.

The other children around them aren’t really paying attention to the small drama playing before their eyes, such things being an almost daily occurrence among them, not necessarily always involving Kenneth and Bin. They get easily distracted too, once the shiny has passed on.

I settle things as quickly as possible, not seeing the need to make it a bigger matter than it really is. The fire-truck is put away with a stern but brief reminder that if they won’t share than no one gets to play with the toy. The boys are told to make up, which they does very reluctantly at first. Adam is thanked for watching out for everybody and a reminder to play since it is break-time.

Soon, everyone is playing contently again.

Another minor crisis averted. The kids sure does keep things interesting. Even with my own personal issues at hand, I always have to stay alert for every situations, big or small.

Speaking of kids and staying alert….

Little Adam is nothing if not vigilant. He notices the smallest things, and if there is anything he treasures most in our classroom, it is peace and joy, with everyone willing to play together. It is as if he has made our classroom his own private little world consisting of all good things, and he wants his classmates to share in the good things. He doesn’t seem to be impressed with his classmate’s petty grievances and avoidable skirmishes.

Who knew little kids can have such amazing perceptive skills as well as the cognizant to try and make their wishes a reality?  He certainly isn’t shy in utilizing all the resources he has at hand.

I hope and pray that the adults in little Adam’s life nurture and guide him well, less he grows up a tyrant in his good intentions to make the world a better place for everybody. It seems unlikely that he’ll stray, though. He has that noticeable maturity and leadership quality about him that even his little friends recognize and respect, as much as they can respect anybody.

Satisfied, I walk back to my seat at the front of the class.

I have no doubt that there will always be fights, tears and minor tantrums as long as there are children.

But I do notice that I never find anything to hate about teaching my classroom of little ones. For all the frequent fights, tears, tantrums and stubbornness which accompany these children, when they are told to make up, they always do. It doesn’t matter that they are reluctant at first, but once they do, they play and laugh together as if the events of the past never happened.

I look up to check on Kenneth and Bin, and true enough, both boys are now playing with the building blocks with a couple more of their classmates, as if the fight of a few minutes ago never occurred.

Children don’t bear grudges. They are not vengeful or spiteful. They feel things clearly and wholeheartedly. Adults can look at children and presume that children lack passion, that all are care-free and fancy-free with them.

But it is my humble opinion that children are very passionate creatures. They don’t seem to do things by half. Everything, admittedly, is less about logic with them and more about letting their emotions lead. They laugh loudly and freely when happy. Children cry when they hurt or are angry. They love without embarrassment; they hug and kiss because they feel love. Also, they tell things like it is. They are honest and straightforward.

I remember an incident when I once came to class with a new hair-do, and the children were looking at my hair in a funny and awestruck way.

It didn’t take long for someone to make their opinion known.

One boy said, “Miss! Your hair looks funny, like a cabbage!” and he giggled. His classmates giggled. Well, I giggled. It wasn’t mocking, it was a child’s observation and honest opinion given without malice. To the boy and his friends, it was fun.

Who can say definitely that just because children’s intellectual cognizant are not as developed as adults’ are, that they are automatically inferior to those older than them?

I don’t and I won’t, because I know what my children means to me, and how much impact they have in my personal life.

They won’t know it too, and they won’t understand even if I sit them down and tell them that I appreciate them. They understand a nicely-wrapped present more.

May there always be children in this world, because they remind us adults everyday that there are people in this world worth protecting. It is that their innocence and purity, as well as their heart, are worth preserving.

I teach my kids Art and Recreational Activities, as well as English.

But looking at them playing contently, with a few small disagreements every now and then, I understand that sometimes they are my teacher. My children are teaching me Love, Joy, Laughter, Forgiveness, Innocence; everything an adult tend to forget in their pursuit of a higher intellect.

That sounds cheesy, yes, but I love cheese.


….to be continued….

For previous chapters go here 

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