Treasure Chest of Winter

Winter Winds, Chopin, Pentatonix

 

Last rays of sunset

Lace through bare trees.

As light fades, a chill wind

Swirls fallen crumbled leaves,

Once so bright and drifting

With a dancer’s flourish.

In darkness, the clouds roll back

As a scroll of gray and black. 

The reigns of summer and autumn

No longer tower and burn.

Midnight reveals

A treasure chest of winter:

Ice and snow prepared

To lay a frozen ruin to the land.

 

  https://youtu.be/pHlqEvAwdVc

 

Wednesday Words, from 2012. We bloggers are blessed. to be surrounded by so much talent.  The Wednesday Words were a writing challenge for bloggers to make a change with a different something.  

 

Treasure Chest Treasures

Classroom Management

The Treasure Chest was finally full, bursting from its cardboard seams.  Parents had pulled through, had donated to the treasure hoard, according to a list of requests from Ms. Wallace, First Grade teacher in Room 31. Some parents donated even more. 

When the new first graders streamed through the classroom door, pencils had been sharpened and books stacked. The classroom rules and rewards were posted on the wall, along with bright alphabet letters and numbers lined up in a row. First day was thrilling for all.

Life in First Grade

At the end of the day, three lucky students who had shown exemplary behavior reached sweaty and dirty hands into the treasure box, pulling out their own special prize. School bell rang, students from Room 31 poured out onto the playground to see what those treasures were.

From Australia

Day two, then day three, day four, and finally day five came about and three  little girls reached claw-like hands into the chest, pulling out matching Barbie-pink pencil cases. Squealing, all three dashed out with other Ms. Wallace students.  What is it?  Open it! Open it!

Out on the playground, each pulled out white tubes wrapped in white paper. Ooooh, look at that! What is that?  Excitement became confusion.

Each girl revealed a strange cylinder of compacted cotton with odd strings hanging out one end.  One girl pretended to put on makeup. Others experimented, which allowed students to take turns swinging one around.  But, novelty wore off, most first graders ran to waiting parents. Only the three girls remained, batting each other and giggling.

They raced around, swirling Tampons over their heads and then batting the tether ball pole.

Ms. Wallace thought she had seen it all in her years of teaching, but now she had watched the three girls chasing each other, swatting each other with Tampons. You missed me! No, I didn't! Here, take that!!  A sword fight using Tampons broke out. One Tampon was dropped into a puddle and magic happened as it absorbed the liquid.

You can carry this in your purse or backpack!

Ms. Wallace stepped backwards into a dark corner as the parents found them.

Hurrying inside, Ms. Wallace culled through the Treasure Chest, opening each Barbie-pink pencil case with a Tampon discreetly wrapped inside. Other donations were up to the list's standards and Tampons definitely were not on it. 

As she drove home, Ms. Wallace sighed. There'll be hell to pay tomorrow.



Part of this true: the Barbie pink containers did contain two Tampons, and only one girl chose it as her prize. She then did all of those activities (except the water bit) in the car with her younger sister. They had a good time.  It was a heck of a thing according to my daughter.

Surprises in a Treasure Chest

caption lost in publishing.  Pinterest site.

This is the second day of school for Bright Eyes.  Already, she and her little clutch of friends are striving for good behavior, and most importantly, “table points”.

products to purchase

Unless you are familiar with the discipline plans and rewards used in an elementary classroom, that means nothing to you. 

 “Table Points” are the points a cluster of six students called a ‘table group’ can earn by sitting up straight, paying attention, folding hands in front of them, and/or remaining silent when the world around them is wreaking wild havoc.

The table group who garners the most points throughout the whole week gets to choose prizes from the Treasure Chest.  

Lots of purchased stuff, not donated

“Oh. My. Goodness.  This is so big, like, you know, Grandma!  And, we were the first table group for the school year, too.”  Bright Eyes now sounds like every teeny girl in Disney™ television shows.  

It makes me sad, and a little cranky to be honest. Her young moral compass will be led by a Treasure Chest. When my daughter quietly informed me of this special day, it was impossible to squelch my reaction.

So, Bright Eyes hopped into the van, clutching her prize from the Treasure Chest.  It was a small zippered bag, like a girl would carry in her purse for lipstick and such. She had so much to tell about her day, and she had to buckle in before she could examine her treasured prize.

There was silence from Bright Eyes as my daughter drove, letting Sunshine fill in the news of her day.  Then, “Mommy, what is this?”

From the treasured prize, Bright Eyes pulled out three Tampons™, and held them up for her mother to view in the rear view mirror. She was told that they would talk about those things at home.  

But that was never enough for Bright Eyes, oh no. She knew a brush-off when she heard it. Bright Eyes tore them open, and speculated about their uses.  Not a flashlight…oh, look, here’s string…she swung the tampons around on their strings…No, this isn’t a telescope. Here, Sunshine!  You can play with this one…”

Both competed with fighting tampons, swinging in a white whirl.

This looks like a good book.

When they all arrived home and the front door closed, my daughter (God bless her.) gave Bright Eyes an abbreviated explanation; she took the Tampons away.  Then she called the teacher, who listened in silence.  The Teacher said, “Oh, dear.  I’d better called Bright Eyes’ best friend.  She picked the same thing.” 

Ahhh.  The joys of teaching. Joys of learning.

And joys of being a grandmother.

This is a re-post from August 17, 2011.

We are visiting family (two grandsons) in Switzerland, and blogging is highly unlikely.  

Winter Falls

Last rays of sunset

Lace through bare trees.

As light fades, a chill wind

Swirls fallen crumbled leaves,

Once so bright and drifting

With a dancer’s flourish.

In darkness, the clouds roll back

As a scroll of gray and black. 

The reigns of summer and autumn

No longer tower and burn.

Midnight reveals

A treasure chest of winter:

Ice and snow prepared

To lay ruin to the land. 

With thanks to Delores