school

When I was six years old, my mother enrolled me in elocution classes.  Believe it or not, I was shy, I was new to town, I didn't know anyone and no one knew me. But my elocution teacher taught me to speak, to stand up straight, memorize poems, and look people in the eye when I spoke.

At Christmas that first grade year, the old-maid principle (who wore high-top leather work boots) came stomping down the wood floors of the hall, passed all the classrooms and stopped at my room.

There were sixty-three children (that's the truth) in the room, and all of us were terrified of her. We had heard she had a paddle with holes in it.  We all believed she did.  Each one of us was sure that we were the one in trouble.  "Janie, come here," she said.  I will never forget that moment.  I was so scared.

She marched me down the hall to the sixth grade rooms, picked me up and stood me on the teacher's desk.  "Sing," she said.  "Quote a poem about Christmas."  I sang.  I quoted.  "Santa Clause is coming to town."  I still remember every word,  every gesture as I went through the motions my elocution teacher had taught me.  Pointing at myself when I said, " I  just got back from a lovely trip," pointing at the class when I said, "You better watch out."  Hands on my hips, tilting my head from side to side.

She moved me from room to room--eighteen classrooms--and finally worked her way back to first grade and to my classroom.  After I sang for my class, she picked me up off of the teacher's desk, set me down on the floor and said, "That was good."  I had gone from being terrified to being very warm inside. I had done something good!!  I was never afraid of speaking again.  I had been validated by the most fearful woman in the world.  Now,  sixty-nine years later, I still feel good when I think about it.

In Mark 10:14, Christ said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me…" and  in verse 16 Christ blessed them.  We need to do likewise.  Sometimes your blessing on a child lasts an entire lifetime.