The Garden School Tattler

Huh? Do I like the girls better than the boys? For a grandmother of five boys and a girl - I don't think that's possible. A compliment is a compliment. I realize that a body part reference can be congratulatory or insulting, but considering saying the girls are the heart of the school is simply true. They are the little engines that make the day sweet.

That doesn't mean the boys are rags bones and hunks of hair. Let's say the boys are the spirit of the school. Does that mean I don't like the girls?

The truth is - like every person, there are those who make you laugh and those who make you cry. There are those who learn and those who refuse. There are those who love to love you and those who love to set you on fire. There are children who smile openly, and those who keep it all inside.

Each one is a precious and wonderful and exciting gift from a God who is pure love. That means the response a child offers is his first and initial years as he eeks out of his little shell is the light that will follow him all his life. How can you discriminate by any narrow means?

Is one nationality or religion preferable to another - especially in a child? Is one skin or eye or hair color preferable? One day while I was trying to explain discrimination - because a child asked - I separated all the blue eyed children from the rest of the children. I told all the children that I liked the blue eyed kids the best and that we were going to play all day and have treats and the other kids would spend the day scrubbing the floor and eating gruel.

Poor Hadley cried. She wept great crocodile tears until we reversed the play, and I told the other kids I really didn't like blue eyed children best at all, and they could do the scrubbing and we'd all eat bon bons and... By that time the kids were all cheering their own group and having a merry moment.

"Suppose," I continued to press, "We decided that no one could have blond hair?" The kids looked at each other and laughed.

"What would they do, Miss Judy?"

"They would have to cut it off, dye it black or red or brown or wear hats. Maybe they would shave their heads!" That made the children laugh.

"Suppose we decided that everyone had to wear dresses?" As I eyed the boys, the girls howled with laughter. "Suppose we said all haircuts had to be this," and I held up my fingers to show less than half an inch, "short." The boys all laughed as the girls grabbed their heads.

"Does anyone really care that some people wear dresses and some people don't? Do we care if someone's curls are brown or black or yellow? Does it matter that some children have a year round tan and some children don't? Aren't differences neat? Look at Alexa's beautiful blond hair. And look at Adyson's beautiful dark curls. Can you really choose which one you like better?"

I chose a child who had lost a tooth. "He doesn't have any front teeth. Should we make him the enemy?"

"No," agreed the children.

"That's right because he will shortly, and then you might lose yours and... well, it's never a good idea to discriminate," I repeated. "Discrimination means you can't see that God loves him. Don't do it. It's a dangerous business and not fair at all."

"OK," the kids agreed. It's about that easy.

Loving means just that. Love does not have conditions - at least to a mother. Sometimes the children will say, "I'll let you be my best friend if..." I always coach the kids to respond, "The price is too high. When your friendship goes on sale, give me a call."

***

The furnace is fixed and all is temporarily right with the world.

Maestro misses all of you. As he finished his fourth can of food, he sighed heavily, turned to look at the lonely building this morning, and crept over to his box by the copier. I think he's bored. "Boredom comes from inside your head, not your environment," I touted. He gave me one of those ignore you looks and the furnace guy thought I was talking about him. Oh well, another day another 35 cents.