Which contains tales of the classroom

For morning devotions, I’m going through the story of creation with my class. We got to the part about Adam and Eve being naked but not ashamed, and I quickly and matter-of-factly explained that being naked meant that you weren’t wearing any clothes and that was OK because it was the way God created us. And then I moved on without giving the munchkins any time for giggling.

 

The next day, we got to the part of the story about Adam and Eve eating the fruit and realizing they were naked. The kids kept listening attentively, without the slightest smirk at the implied nudity. I secretly congratulated myself on the veteran-teacher way I handled the concept (Have you ever tried to say the word "naked" around 10-year-olds??) and was well into the part about God’s heart breaking over their sin, when a hand shot up in the front row.

 

The hand belonged to one of the cutest little kids in my class. He is SO serious and always seems a bit worried. He also has this very distinctive way of speaking. He speaks slowly, enunciates every word, and raises his voice a little bit at the end of every sentence, like it’s a question.

 

So I call on the kid, and in his very precise voice he says,

 

"When we were on vacation in Croatia, I saw two naked men?"

 

And then he stopped.

 

He didn’t laugh or anything. He just genuinely thought that that was a good contribution to our discussion.

 

But then Miss C started giggling. And she looked up and saw the student teacher giggling. And she started giggling harder. 

 

Forty-two eyeballs stared.

 

And finally I had to stick the piece of paper over my face because I was in danger of completely losing it.

 

Even then, it was touch and go for a few minutes. I had to have one of the kids start the prayer time because I wasn’t sure I could do it without laughing.

 

And that is the veteran-teacher way I like to handle things. My college professors would be so proud!

———————————————–

 

The kids also gave these oral biography book reports. They made a puppet of their character, and gave a summary of the book as though they were the subject of the biography.

 

After each kid’s presentation, the others had a chance to ask questions. For some reason they have a morbid fascination with how the people died. So Ulysses S. Grant was up there, and a kid asked the obligatory, "How did you die?"

 

"I don’t know," answered the kid. "I just died of death."

 

 Which sounds to me like a very admirable way to go.

 

And when Charles Dickens was up at the front, sock puppet in hand, a kid asked,

 

"How old were you when you started growing that mustache?

 

haha!!

 

Ah, the kiddos. They give me joy.