Thursday, May 31, 2012

Kindergarten Days

image courtesy photobucket.com

This post is a combination of two short stories that were on my home pages for "Tell Me A Story"

The Tell Me A Story Blog Hop is designed so that you may scroll down at any time, and view older true stories that are posted there (Even if the entries are closed).  Simply grab my button to go direct to the site and enjoy the stories you will discover there.

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Thinking back to my Kindergarten days, I realize now that we were fortunate to have an extraordinary teacher.

Miss Helen Jane was a bubbly person, always smiling, and as she spoke she would look into the eyes of each child.

She stood at the door welcoming each child by calling their name as they entered the room, and at the end of the day she would again stand at the door and plant a kiss on our cheek as we left.

The girls did not mind, but for show, the boys would usually rub off her kiss.

In today’s world those kisses would certainly not be approved by the School board, or the State or the Federal Government. But that was the year 1937 and things were different then.

image courtesy photobucket
In our room there was an old victrola, and as we sat in a circle Miss Helen Jane would play music and shuffle our names from a group of flash cards.

The child, whose name was shown on the card, was asked to skip around the circle and return back to his or her seat.

Our teacher made a game out of us being able to recognize our name.

She also taught us to print our name in big bold letters on lined paper and to recognize numbers from one to ten, to distinguish shapes and colors and to understand that learning was fun.

I remember that our chairs and tables were all painted a lovely hot pink.

There was one chair that was BAD brown. Our teacher called it the “Thinking Chair.” I never had to sit in it, but the idea was; those who misbehaved were to sit and “think” until they were ready to apologize to our teacher.

Actually I don’t remember any child ever having to sit in that bad brown thinking chair. We all wanted to please our teacher and to be good children.

When Kindergarten graduation was over and I entered the first grade room, you can imagine my shock when I discovered that all the chairs and tables were BAD brown – not pretty pink.

What had I done to deserve this?

Isn’t that the truth, Life can’t always be PINK - - like Kindergarten!

This post has been linked to Michelle’s Thought Provoking Thursday


8 comments:

  1. Ha-ha! You have an amazing memory. Why is it no one had to sit in the brown chair? Why did all want to please Miss Helen Jane? Must have been all that love!

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    1. Yes, our teacher was so sweet it caused us to want to be good! :-)

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  2. What a sweet post that displays the power of one woman who was a creative encourager and mentor! Love it.

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  3. What a lovely story about how important it is to be an encourager and mentor! Love it

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  4. Wow, what a great experience you had, and what a great blessing! I started KG at a private school a year early because I could read, only to be reprimanded by my teacher for reading stories to my classmates at recess! And then she wanted me to repeat KG because I wouldn't color inside the lines (no, I'm not kidding!). But then the school psychologist insisted I move on to 1st grade because I was actually at a 4th grade level. Having survived all that trauma, I'm happy to say that I did eventually get some wonderful teachers and mentors who blessed, encouraged & inspired me.
    Thanks for the great post, and God bless!
    Laurie

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  5. First of all, Hazel, I'm so amazed at your memory - the details...phew...

    Isn't it sad that today, our teachers can not show that kind of TLC to the children. You were blessed with such a wonderful start to your education.

    I can imagine the trepidation over the Bad Brown chairs!

    And you are so right, Life isn't always PINK!

    This was a great post. Thanks, Hazel, for sharing your memories with us all!

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  6. It's all perception isn't it? I remember being threatened with the "dunce cap" more than once. My older brother's teacher kept the boys in check by making them wear a dress over their clothes if they acted out. I wonder what the government would think of that?

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