May 1st, 2009

  • etcet

liz_lowlife has a special day in the classroom.

I had written to my children when I was off long term sick to tell them that I was thinking of them every day because I was writing a story for them.

It was a story that was meant to be about 5 000 words long but it currently stands at around 20,000 and is not even half finished!

I have quite a story inside me, it seems.

It is not a brilliant piece of literature, but it helped to keep me from spiralling into utter despair at my most poorly and gave me a world to retreat into.

Today, I finally plucked up the courage to begin reading it to my harshest critics- Class 20.
I was so nervous!
What if they didn't like it?
What if they became bored?

As it panned out, their eyes were glued on me: hanging on every word and so full of questions about the plot.
They were all fighting to say things such as, "Wow! It's really good Miss!"
"When can we hear the next bit?"
"I am writing a novel too, you know, so I can be just like you!"

And these are kids in one of the most deprived housing estates in Britain.
Many of their parents do not read or write themselves.

But my kids are different.
Because I am a writer, they want to be too.

Harry, my token Aspie kid in the class, who finds it so very difficult to engage with socially acceptable communicativeness is an amazing artist. It is how he tells me he has listened and understood.

He won't talk to me as such, but when he goes home, he draws incredibly detailed pictures of what he has learned and gives them to me shyly, eyes gazing at his shifting feet.
I know then, that he has understood.

I asked him today, if he wanted a job. It would be paid in colouring pencils to take home.
I asked him if he would illustrate my story.

"You would have to invent the most fierce dragon imaginable," I told him.
"Are you up to the task? It is a very, very responsible and important job."

For the first time since I have returned to work, he made eye contact, beamed at me and nodded vigorously.

All the other kids ran around the playground afterwards, telling their mates that Harry was going to be a famous illustrator.

This made me smile very much. :o)

It's a private class, but we're allowed to watch.
not normal

(no subject)

ginalin has an unusual way of dealing with one of life's little irritants:

I talk to telemarketers. Oh, I never buy anything from them, because I don't buy things over the doorstep or off the phone but if I happen to get one, I chat with them until they hang up. I talk about whatever comes to mind. I find Jesus works quite well as a topic if you want a very short conversation.

"I'd like to offer you a Visa Card today, with only a 24.5% interest rate!"
"And I'd love to talk to you about Jesus Christ! I'm so glad you called, I've been wanting to share this all day!"
"Um...... well, I'm already a Christian."
"That's wonderful. We can share the gift of Christian fellowship!"
"I have to do my job ma'am."
"I totally understand! Well, have a good day doing that, and I'll pray for you, since you don't want to talk about Jesus...I'm sure he'll understand."


I know it might be hard to pull that off if you're an atheist or an agnostic, it all depends on your acting skill level. But, for getting rid of pesky telemarketers who call every day trying to sell you a "free" vacation in Vegas for a few thousand dollars, it's terrific.
I like to call it "Jesus a lot of time of the phone with telemarketers."

Context would like to talk to you about your eternal soul. QWP.