Yesterday my granddaughter and I had lunch together. I fixed the toasted cheese sandwiches and prepared the cantaloupe while my two and a half year old grandchild set the table. I’m not kidding! She did this task on her own. She put placemats out, placed a fork on them (which she got out of the drawer on her own), and finished up the job by putting a napkin beside the fork. I was quite impressed, and it reminded me of how helpful her own mother has always been around the house. Except for that one time she protested.
When our children were growing up, kindergarten was a half day affair. You either went to the morning session or the one after lunch. I still think it’s a better plan. That means a 5-year-old only spends half the day away from home. But I’m admittedly old fashioned when it comes to caring for children.
Our daughter was in the morning session and loved every minute of it. Her teacher was a wonderful woman who was old enough to be her grandmother. She was everything I wanted for our daughter’s first teacher. Kind, strict with a sense of fairness, and a handle on the fact that kids need to have fun.
The 4 hours of school were wisely planned each day. Some supervised play time to allow the children to interact with each other. There was the usual rote recitation of the alphabet and counting, and the favorite part for our little darling–story time.
The story was always the last thing of the morning so the children went home with what they just heard uppermost in their minds. Some times the story would teach a lesson about manners or morals and sometimes it was just a fun story. Our daughter always tried to get the most out of what was read to her.
Often she would share the story on our drive home but sometimes we never knew what she had just listened to. Then there were rare occasions when she would apply the story to her present circumstances. One particular day it was very easy for me to figure out what she had just heard.
Lunch always immediately followed our return from kindergarten. After lunch on the day I’m thinking of I asked my little girl to do what I had asked her many times before. But I was about to get a response that was entirely new. I said, “Honey, while I clean up the dishes I want you to go clean up your room and put your toys away, please.” She did not hesitate. She turned and walked to her room. In no time at all she was back in the kitchen. A very annoyed child was standing in front of me. Her little hands were on those little 5-year-old hips declaring, “Why do I have to clean my room? I feel just like Cinderella!”
I knew what story was read that morning.