Portrait of a Persecuted Girl

A young woman rests on the concrete floor.
Sunlight falls onto the pages before her.
The book itself does not attract much attention.
The book has been burnt, torn, beaten.
Its cover has been thrown away.
Pages are shred.
Sections of pages are missing.
She turns the page.
The smell of smoke fills her nostrils.
Soot leaves its mark on her fingertips.
She reads on.
“For though I am free from all men, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I may win more.”
Friends and relatives ridicule.
But she clings to the obedient One who Himself became a slave to all.
Friends and relatives hate.
But He has adopted her as His own.
She has lost all.
But through Him, she lives to shine His light on their darkness.
The concrete is cold.
The young woman remains.
She rests on the hope of her Book.

Reminiscing about Students

Story #1
Our class had been experiencing much strife because of boys not following the rules while playing the Star Wars game at recess.
I wanted to encourage peace, patience, and discussing problems with one another in order to solve them. And so, we took some time to discuss the issues after one quite dramatic recess.

The plaintiff explained, "You guys make up the rules, but you don't follow them. You don't die when you say we have to die. You need to folllow the rules and play fair."

Defendant, "I have ALL the Star Wars movies. My DAD knows all about the Star Wars games. This guy only gets to watch them on TV or when we have a sleep over. I have the information. Do YOU have the information? Do YOU know the rules? Show me! Prove it! Do YOU have the information? No, no you don’t."

At this point I realized that the "talking it out" approach was too girly. I gave consequences, we set up rules, we moved on.


Story #2
To set the stage: we had been talking about missionaries for awhile and Mrs. Austin (who was a missionary with her husband and family in Indonesia) had just done a chapel on being missionaries. I think it was during phonics, perhaps history or even math, when suddenly the subject turned and connected to telling others about Jesus EVEN when we go into the grocery store.
I told them I try to go in with a smile on my face (I demonstrated) rather than a frown (I demonstrated) to show the people at the store Jesus, etc etc.

Suddenly a child called out, "so we should go out and preach the gospel to THEM, Miss Martin?!"

Whoa! To hear that phrase, "preach the gospel" come out of one of THEIR mouths -- it was crazy, and a little shocking. I hope he/they will mean it some day.


Story #3
It was snack time. The students were at their desks, enjoying their snack, little conversations were going around the classroom and I was listening to one lively boy tell a story.
Story Teller, "Guess what Miss Martin?!
Teacher, "Yes sir?"
Story Teller, "I once went fishing with my dad. I am a good fisherman, but I didn't catch a fish. Guess what I caught?!"
Teacher, "A shoe."
Story Teller, "NO! It was a SHARK!"
I raised my eyes at this statement. Students' heads turned to listen in on this conversation. His grin grew.
Teacher, "Really? A shark?! What did you do with him?"
Story Teller, "I took my dad's gun and BLAMP!, I blasted him away and he fell back into the water."

Story #4
It was the week after spring break. Before the break we had done a Passover meal. It was snack time and one student thought another student's snack looked mighty tasty.
"Milton, do you need snack?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure? Your mom usually packs you a snack."
"Oh yes. I am sure. Can I have some of Jenny's snack?"
"No, you can't have Jenny's snack. You can have matsa."
Milton chewed on this idea for a moment. He had tasted the matsa before.
"Ahh...I'll check to see if my mom packed me a snack."
The snack neglected boy then went to his cubby and returned with loads of food found in the depths of his lunchbox.
"Guess my mom DID pack me a snack."


Story #5 -- Miscellanious Quotes
Here are some of my favorite statements from the year.

"I am coloring the flesh. See, this is the flesh. Flesh!! FLESH!!!"

"I put the brown on there and now it's showing through the purple. Just incredible!"

"For crying out loud! I don't have to cut it out."
(Looking at me) "Do I have to cut it out?"

Student 1 kicked Josh's foot, "sorry."
Josh, "Oh no, it was all my fault."
"No, I was wrong."

Holding up the bottom half of a broken eraser, "Another victim of being bitten off by Luke; sad case."

"Just so you know, I use that very same gum for my gumball machine. I know because of the 'Double Bubble' crown on the top and the big circle."

"Whenever my mom gets a new vacuum my Grandma B and I get crayons and decorate the box however we want to and then I get to play in it for a really long time."

"I am going to a REAL salon to get my hair cut."
"Oh, a REAL salon? What's a fake salon?"
"Kid's Cuts. That's where I went before. That's a fake salon."
The next day -- with the new locks:
"I went to a real stylist and they had sinks to wash your hair and I got my hair washed there too! It was great!!"

"On Saturday we got to do the funnest thing -- we made a secret hideout with my friend's new oven box. We put it out by the woods and got to play in it. And even when it rained really hard -- it didn't even get wet!"

Boy: "Who is that? A Barbie?"
Girl: "It's TAYLOR SWIFT -- a TEENage singer."
Girl: "She lived on a tree farm and then she became a STAR." Speaking matter-of-factly, she then turned to allow the air to brush through her hair.

Crazy Kids...

This is a beloved story from last year. Enjoy.

The day was ending, a good chunk of free choice time and all of show-and-tell had been taken away because the students had been unable to control themselves inside and outside of class.

In light of these changes to the schedule, I brought out handwriting and history.

I know that I made history the most BORING subject of all time for those sad first graders, but I didn't quite realize to what extent I had done so.
Observe our conversation:

(I WISH I had had a recording device for this conversation!)


After removing "Show-and-Tell" from their Friday schedule, I pulled out the history book and told them, "Now that you have finished your handwriting, we have 5 minutes before we need to pack up. I will use this time to finish our thoughts on the adventurer Robert La Salle."
Groans proceeded to ooze out of the poor students' beings.

"NOO!!"

Cries of,
"Boring!"
"No more!"
"This is a bad end of the day!"
followed the groans.

Simultaneously, two girls called out two of the funniest comments I have ever received,
"The day is ending like the roar of a lion!"
"The day has ended with the graveyard."

Followed by:
"This day started out well, but you have smashed my hopes into pieces!"
"Just let us do some PROJECTS in history!" (he said as his hands pulled the skin away from the eyeball in great desperation and despair.)

I silenced the crowd to hear the comments I wanted to hear.

One girl continued her thought, "I thought today was going to be a great day! I woke up and was so excited because today is crazy hat and hair day, we have computers, free choice, AND show-and-tell, but then we started talking at computers and now you took them all away. You smashed my hopes into little tiny pieces, like this."
At which point she held up her index finger and thumb pressed together in order to indicate the length to which I smashed her hopes to pieces.

The crowd cried out,
"That's right! This day has ended in the grave!"
"This day has ended like death!"
"I wish I had never been born!"
"I just want to die."

I asked, "All because of history?!" (Was I really making it that horrible for them?!)

To the declarations of death, I did reply with a firm, "No, you do NOT say such things!"
One student then changed his response, "No, Miss Martin, I don't want to really die, I just want to be in heaven with the Lord rather than here." (Manipulation, right there.)

Once again, I silenced the crowd to hear the next comment.
Student, "The day has ended like a roaring lion."
Teacher, "What does that mean?"
Student, "It starts out so good and then it doesn't end very well."

To these comments I asked them whose responsibility it was to not talk, to do their work, to obey Mrs. Young, Mrs. Williams, Miss Martin, etc, etc. They acknowledged that this was their responsibility.

Suddenly, a charismatic and authoritative student raised his hand and stood up to speak,
"Come on guys, can't we choose to have good days? Can't we try to have a day like this?"

To illustrate his point, he strode over to the HOW I ACT chart and began to take off all the letters people had been given that day. (It was SO humorous -- and yet foolish of me to let him continue. He really was in control at that point. ALL eyes were on him. ALL ears were listening to him. ALL bodies could be motivated by him. They could form a rebellious union. Despite my better judgment, I was intrigued and so let him continue his INSPIRATIONAL speech.)

"Can't we try for a day like this -(pointing to the HOW I ACT board)- where there are no letters?! Can we have our parents come to us with smiling faces" (and he smiled a Chesire Cat smile) "instead of coming to us like this?" (and he frowned).
"Couldn't we let them sleep with smiling faces?" (and he closed his eyes with his smile.)
"We need to try for one day when we won't see this board with letters on it!"

As the crowd began to catch the idea with an energetic agreement, his fervor increased.

"Yes, we need to have a day without letters and then we will have Miss Martin put HER name right there! And then WE will give HER letters!!"

As cries of joy errupted from the crowd, I collected myself to interrupt the revolutionary's message.
"No," I began with great sobriety, "we need authority. I listen to Mr. Lugg and he has placed me as your authority. You cannot give me letters. You must obey me."

Wihout physically acknowledging my words, the student changed the direction of his motivational address.

"We need to have a goal for no letters in one day so we can take ALL these letters off and then," his intesity began to grow, "throw the HOW I ACT board...IN TO...the...GARBAGE!"

My classroom could contain themselves no longer. This student had just expressed their unspoken hope. They began to clap and cheer.

"Yeah!"
"Yeah!"

I suddenly realized I could no longer allow my curiousity to be my controling desire. "Okay, sir, take your seat. We need rules. We will not get rid of the board. These are the rules in our classroom. If you were able to go a WHOLE day with NO letters, we could have a party in celebration of no letters, but we must keep the board."

"A recess day all day long?!"
"Play all day! Play all day!" the chant began.

Oops. The motivational speaker didn't QUITE inspire them to be silent.

I signaled for silence to squash the riotous mass.
I then reminded them that that is how they get all their letters -- too much noise; not enough self-control.
hahahahaha

As we started our "end of the day" routine, the students began to calm themselves, and the motivational speaker sat a little higher in his seat. He had succeeded.
And I --while chuckling to myself-- praised the Lord that it was the end of the day and concluded that it may be best to reign in one's curiosity.