Finally, it happened. We broke up. It was an extremely exhausting day both emotionally and physically. It was so hot as well. I tried to stay detached and professional but the parents were crying and setting me off. I have had such kind things said to me today, and for that I am eternally grateful. I had one superb letter from a mother that means more to me than all the gifts. That I shall keep forever. This following poem sums up how I feel. (Apart from feeling totally knackered!)
Again, a great big thank you to my classroom assistants for all their help, support and humour this year.
In 2002 at the beginning of September
You came into my class, how well I remember.
Some of you were smiling and giggling a lot
Some were very quiet and a few tears I could spot
You came here to learn, to be taught how to read
You were then very much like a tiny new seed
You were all in my garden just waiting to grow
So this gardener got busy with her rake and her hoe
I fed you the water and let in the sun
You took in the soil, but we had only begun
Each day as I worked in this garden of mine
I saw you all growing so strong and so fine
Then finally one day I took a good look
And saw each of my flowers reading a book
It was obvious then that you had worked too
Soaking up all the food I had given to you
But although you have blossomed, you still need to grow
So I'll pass you on now to another gardener I know
She too has a rake and hoe she can use
And plenty of food from which you can choose
I hope you will keep your roots open wide
Take in all her food and keep it inside
Yes, a gardener can work all night and all day
But the flower must be willing to take in each ray
So work very hard in your garden each year
Do the best you can and you'll have nothing to fear
Grow strong and tall, reach up for the sun
Stay as nice as you are and have lots of fun.
Spent the day in work clearing up -so strange without children. So much to do. Takes time to clear up and then in 2 weeks Ihave to go back in and set out ready for the new class. Label the coat pegs, drawers and books. Right now I am shattered and don't want to speak to another 5 year old for a whule.
Posted by: LKH at July 11, 2003 09:38 PM