Small wonders
Last week I promised my 7th grade Humanities students that if they were really really good all week long, so good I was inspired to brag about what angels they were, we would forego normal lessons today and make paper snowflakes to decorate the classroom for "winter."
"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"
They're almost always remarkably cute and sweet, and last week they were even better. So, as promised, we made snow today. I hit the stationery store yesterday and picked up silver, white and light blue paper and silvery metallic paint pens so the snowflakes would be extraordinary.
At the beginning of each class (I teach two sections) I asked if anyone knew how to make paper snowflakes. No one did, which makes sense as it never snows in Indonesia. I firmly believe that learning to make paper snowflakes is one of those childhood art experiences everyone should have, right along with making macaroni jewelry, eating paste and fingerpainting or coloring on the living room wall. No matter that these kids are almost teenagers-it's never too late to learn to make paper snowflakes!
It didn't take long before the idea caught on, and both class periods were spent in a happy flurry of cutting and doodling. They were even good about putting paper scraps in the trash can.
The kids were asking a lot of questions about snow, too, and at one point I told them that no two snowflakes were alike.
"Not any? Ever ever? Of all those tiny snowflakes, Mrs. Erin?"
"Not as far as anybody knows," I said.
There was a pause as they digested this information, then a little guy in the back of the room piped up.
"God is so cool, huh, Mrs. Erin? He even cares about making pretty snowflakes."
It's so easy to forget small miracles like snowflakes. It's much easier to look at the mess we've made of our planet and the horrors mankind continues to visit upon itself. It's easier to start to lose hope or to grow cynical.
Then a child sees God in a snowflake and I'm reminded to be thankful, infinitely thankful, for small wonders-because they're everywhere.
God is so cool.
"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"
They're almost always remarkably cute and sweet, and last week they were even better. So, as promised, we made snow today. I hit the stationery store yesterday and picked up silver, white and light blue paper and silvery metallic paint pens so the snowflakes would be extraordinary.
At the beginning of each class (I teach two sections) I asked if anyone knew how to make paper snowflakes. No one did, which makes sense as it never snows in Indonesia. I firmly believe that learning to make paper snowflakes is one of those childhood art experiences everyone should have, right along with making macaroni jewelry, eating paste and fingerpainting or coloring on the living room wall. No matter that these kids are almost teenagers-it's never too late to learn to make paper snowflakes!
It didn't take long before the idea caught on, and both class periods were spent in a happy flurry of cutting and doodling. They were even good about putting paper scraps in the trash can.
The kids were asking a lot of questions about snow, too, and at one point I told them that no two snowflakes were alike.
"Not any? Ever ever? Of all those tiny snowflakes, Mrs. Erin?"
"Not as far as anybody knows," I said.
There was a pause as they digested this information, then a little guy in the back of the room piped up.
"God is so cool, huh, Mrs. Erin? He even cares about making pretty snowflakes."
It's so easy to forget small miracles like snowflakes. It's much easier to look at the mess we've made of our planet and the horrors mankind continues to visit upon itself. It's easier to start to lose hope or to grow cynical.
Then a child sees God in a snowflake and I'm reminded to be thankful, infinitely thankful, for small wonders-because they're everywhere.
God is so cool.
posted by Erin @ 4:00 AM
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