Children | Forward Ever Forward

December 25, 2011

FW: A Children’s View on the Christmas Story

What a better way to wish you a merry Christmas than through the mouth of babes.

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM FORWARDEVERFORWARD.COM!

FW: The Little Gold Box

Once upon a time, a man punished his five-year-old daughter for using up the family’s only roll of expensive gold wrapping paper before Christmas.

Money was tight, so he became even more upset when on Christmas Eve, he saw that the child had used the expensive gold paper to decorate a large shoebox she had put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the next morning the little girl, filled with excitement, brought the gift box to her father and said, “This is for you, Daddy!”

As he opened the box, the father was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, now regretting how he had punished her.

But when he opened the shoebox, he found it was empty and again his anger flared. “Don’t you know, young lady,” he said harshly, “when you give someone a present there’s supposed to be something inside the package!”

The little girl looked up at him with sad tears rolling from her eyes and whispered: “Daddy, it’s not empty. I blew kisses into it until it was all full.”

The father was crushed. He fell on his knees and put his arms around his precious little girl. He begged her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger.

An accident took the life of the child only a short time later. It is told that the father kept this little gold box by his bed for all the years of his life. Whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems, he would open the box, take out an imaginary kiss, and remember the love of this beautiful child who had put it there.

FW: What it Means to Be Adopted

Several first graders were discussing a picture of a family.

One little boy in the picture had a different color hair than the other family members.

One child suggested that he was adopted and a little girl said, “I know all about adoptions because I was adopted.”

“What does it mean to be adopted?” asked another child.

“It means,” said the girl, “that you grew in your mommy’s heart instead of her tummy.”

FW: A Frickin’ Elephant?

From the diary of a Pre-School Teacher

My five-year old students are learning to read.
Yesterday one of them pointed at a picture in a zoo book and said,
“Look at this! It’s a frickin’ elephant!”

I took a deep breath, then asked…”What did you call it?”

“It’s a frickin’ elephant! It says so on the picture!”

And so it does… ” A f r i c a n Elephant ”

FW: What Teachers Make

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, “What’s a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?”

To stress his point he said to another guest; “You’re a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?”

Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, “You want to know what I make? (She paused for a second, then began…) “Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I make a C+ feel like the Order of Canada. I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can’t make them sit for 5 without an iPod, Game Cube or a movie. You want to know what I make? She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table.

I make kids wonder. I make them question. I make them apologize and mean it. I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions. I teach them to write and then I make them write. Keyboarding isn’t everything. I make them read, read, read. I make them show all their work in math. They use their God given brain, not the man-made calculator.

I make my students from other countries learn everything they need to know about English while preserving their unique cultural identity. I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe. Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life. Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.

Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, with me knowing money isn’t everything, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant. You want to know what I make? I MAKE A DIFFERENCE. What do you make Mr. CEO?

His jaw dropped, he went silent.

A truly profound answer!!! Teaching is the profession that makes all other professions possible!

FW: A Humble Gift for a Teacher

It is the last day of the school year and I stand empty-handed with no gift to give you.

It isn’t that I haven’t tried to think of something thoughtful and kind… quite to the contrary. For months, I have combed catalogs, browsed specialty shops and department stores, inquired of novelty shops, and even searched the Internet only to realize that no bauble or trinket or card could measure up to the feelings of a mother’s grateful heart and a teacher’s loving dedication.

How I wish a colorful bundle of fresh wildflowers could reflect the beauty of your way with children — the constant patience and nurturing, the gentle encouragement. A keepsake basket laden with soothing soaps and bath oils would eventually serve only as a common gift were its sturdy, woven walls not filled to overflowing with examples of the individual ways you have touched the lives of your students.

Jewelry would surely be nice, but what can I afford that would not soon tarnish or grow quickly out of style? You deserve the gems of royalty for your perseverance and creativity, your devotion and talent. During the past year, I have given you many small gifts, mostly intangible ones.

At the moment the first school bell rang last August, I placed in you my trust, believing you would teach my child and reserve respect for me as a parent. I added to that my constant and fervent prayers that you would be objective and fair with the ability to set limitations while offering my child a chance to learn self-control and to soar a bit in the process. I sincerely petitioned that your classroom would be a safe haven for my child to grow and learn, lending itself to the crazy, yet somehow perfect, mixture of self-discipline and controlled instruction. I prayed for your health and your happiness, and your ability to be supplied with the tools necessary to complete your task as teacher and educator and mentor. I offered you my time as often as I could, and my support for your endeavors. Occasionally, I even offered you a challenge when I spoke my mind, sometimes standing firm, sometimes backing down with a renewed assurance or a “wait and see” attitude!

I wish with all my heart I could put a delicate ribbon on a gaily wrapped package and give you a “something” to express my appreciation and affection, but I have nothing to give you that would surpass the most precious gift I have ever had to offer and which you already so graciously accepted months ago — the one you have held close to your heart, laughed with and probably cried with, applauded and scolded, lifted and encouraged, molded and shaped — my child!

And today, as my child returns to my side for the summer, the gift I humbly give to you is found deep within my heart…

I give to you my thanks.

By Amanda Krug

FW: A Day in Church with Kids

A little child in church for the first time watched as the ushers passed the offering plates. When they neared the pew where he sat, the youngster piped up so that everyone could hear: “Don’t pay for me Daddy, I’m under five.”

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A little boy was attending his first wedding. After the service, his cousin asked him, “How many women can a man marry?” “Sixteen,” the boy responded. His cousin was amazed that he had an answer so quickly. “How do you know that?” “Easy,” the little boy said. “All you have to do is add it up, like the Bishop said: 4 better, 4 worse, 4 richer, 4 poorer.”