And to think I almost didn't go! I had plenty to do at home on Friday to get ready for our trip, but my conscience smote me at the thought of missing this opportunity to share the kindergartners' Thanksgiving party. My daughter-in-law, Joanna, had asked if I wanted to go with her and help as she made crafts with her daughter Beth's class and brought her contribution of a turkey to their Thanksgiving feast held in their room.
As Beth passed out the turkey craft, I followed along with a card and envelope for each child. How sweet the little faces were, looking up so innocently with many small "thank you's" voiced as they received the material. They needed plenty of help when it was time to peel and stick the tail feathers of the turkey they were constructing on the cards. I had forgotten how hard it is for little hands to do what seems so simple to a grown-up. Many turkeys had crooked tails, but that only made their efforts more endearing.
After folding their cards and attaching the colorful turkey, they were to write their names inside and a small message if they wanted to. Most of the children managed their names, and the words, "Happy Thanksgiving," were written on the board for them to copy. But one little boy asked me, "How do you spell 'his'?" Not understanding him, I asked him to repeat it. "His!" he stated firmly. When I told him, he quickly wrote, "Joel loves his Mom," at the top of his card.
I noticed one little girl looking distressed as she wriggled and peered at the board. I looked at her paper and saw H-A-P-P-Y T-H-A in wobbly letters and realized she couldn't see the rest of the word that was obscured by children signing their names on the board. "Do you know how to make an "n?" I asked her. She didn't, but after the letter "k," she abandoned her efforts anyway, smiling up at me as she scurried off to write her name with the other children.
My husband had come with me and was enjoying watching the children from the sidelines. One little boy, finishing his card, turned to Howard and asked "Do you have a wife?" Howard pointed to me, and the child offered me the card he had made. Such thoughtfulness in one so young! I suggested he give it to his mother, though.
"When your cards are fiinished, you may go put them in your cubbys," the teacher announced. I was amazed to see a dark-haired little girl in a wheelchair that I hadn't noticed before wheel cheerfully and expertly past us, her eyes bright with excitement and achievement.
Other moms had brought sides of vegetables and trimmings to demonstrate a typical Thanksgiving feast for the kids. I could see right away that I could be useful in helping fill and serve the twenty-odd plates. I got in line with the other helpers and filled the turkey-decorated paper plates with miniscule servings of corn, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie before adding a slice of the turkey Joanna was carving.
"Just try a little of everything," the picky eaters were encouraged, amid cries of "Ooh, what's that?" and "That's sour!" of cranberry sauce. Most of them were eating the whipped topping off the pumpkin pie with no encouragement, however.
We left with warm feelings and a widened perspective after this hour of volunteering. The humility, dependence, and innocence of these little ones stirred new appreciation and awareness of teachers who are entrusted with their care and education on a daily basis. From the little girl trying to copy the word, "Thanksgiving," and the can-do attitude of the brave child in the wheel chair, I learned in kindergarten attributes worthy of copying myself.
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