There’s something magical about little children. Their laughter rings like temple bells, their tears echo like gentle waterfalls. When they toddle onto the first day of kindergarten; away from the comfort of their mother’s lap; they arrive looking for one thing: love. A good hug, a soothing voice, a sweet smile. That’s all they need.
Table Of Content
In today’s world, kindergartens, play schools, and early learning centres have taken on modern, high-tech forms. From digital music corners and fancy learning aids to wind-up toys and interactive games, there’s something new every day. But behind all the changes, the goal remains the same: to raise children with empathy, sensitivity, and imagination; the very path laid out by Gijubhai and adopted by Madam Montessori.
Even in the finest classrooms, it is not the technology that is the treasures but the children themselves; innocent, wide-eyed, and loving. These are memories that stay in a teacher’s mind for ever.
A Touch of Care That Heals
One day, in a typical classroom lesson, I was not up to par. Exhaustion set in, my eyesight went, and I sat down on a low stool close to Shraddha, one of my kindergarten students. When I leaned forward, lightheaded and tired, Shraddha stared at me; eyes wide with worry far beyond her years.
Her eyes did not stray. Her small brow creased. She stood there silently, yet forceful, full of unspoken love. Sitting on the bench and resting my head against it for a moment’s rest, I could feel a soft little hand stroking my hair. Then came her tiny, trembling voice:
“Teacher… Teacher… please drink some water… should I bring medicine? What’s happening to you?”
Her love broke me open. In that instant, I was more than a teacher; I had become the world of someone. That tiny hand conveyed more warmth than a thousand words. I remembered my own mother. In Shraddha’s gentle eyes, I recognized a glance of motherly tenderness that was familiar and eternally timeless.
When a Child Refuses to Eat; for the Teacher
It was Shravan month. I was observing a fast, as I often do on alternate days. I hadn’t taken my meal that morning. Snack time at our kindergarten is not just about eating food; it’s a routine for learning. Teachers will eat with the children to introduce good eating habits and bonding.
On that day, my student Dhvani observed something unusual. She glanced around, puzzled, and asked the helper,
“Where is my teacher’s snack?”
The helper replied casually, “She’s not having any today.”
When it was time to eat, all the children began their usual prayers and started munching. But not Dhvani. She sat there still; her snack untouched. I thought she was just being finicky. I tried to talk with her, to give her a few bites, but she would not take anything. Her eyes filled with tears.
When at last she spoke, her voice shook me:
“Why didn’t the helper give you snack today? If you don’t eat, I won’t eat either!”
It wasn’t tantrum. It was love. Pure, raw, unfiltered love.
I sat there wondering; can such love be found only in one’s own child? Isn’t this the type of love we long for, yet dismiss when presented by such small hearts? Working with little children is more than just a job, especially during the pre-primary years; it’s a blessing. These miracles of every day, crammed in between crayons and chalkboards, leave their mark which lasts an eternity.
The Real Lesson
Amidst a world that pursues data and devices, these kids teach us of the strength of human intimacy. They don’t require large words or elaborate lessons. Their actions; an uninvited hug, a soft-spoken question, a tear shed for another; embody what it is to be truly human.
If you happen to get to spend time with kids in their early years, you know: they learn from us, but not just. They teach us, every day.
