I discovered this poem many years ago. I don't know it's history but I used it often whenever I spoke to teachers of young children about how important our job is. For many kids, teachers are among the most important people in their daily lives. During the workweek, teachers spend about as much time with their students as parents do. That’s a lot of responsibility.
During this time in particular, when our world is making life brutal for kids, the teacher’s roles of comforting, strengthening, confidence building, nurturing, empowering, and – yes – loving, are more crucial than ever. While I’ve been out of the classroom for over a year now, it’s hard to stop thinking of myself as a teacher. I hope I didn't just teach math or reading or social studies. I always meant to teach children. They weren’t my clients or my job. They were my best friends. This poem by Ina Hughes reminds me.
We pray for children
who put chocolate fingers everywhere
who like to be tickled
who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants
who sneak popsicles before supper
who erase holes in math workbooks
who can never find their shoes
And we pray for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers
who never "counted potatoes"
who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead
who never go to the circus
who live in an x-rated world
We pray for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions
who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money
who cover themselves with band-aids and sing off key
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink
who slurp their soup
And we pray for those
who never get dessert
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them
who watch their parents watch them die
who can't find any bread to steal
who don't have any rooms to clean up
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser
whose monsters are real
We pray for children
who spend their allowance before Tuesday
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food
who like ghost stories
who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub
who get visits from the tooth fairy
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool
who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry
And we pray for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime
who will eat anything
who have never seen a dentist
who aren't spoiled by anybody
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep
who live and breathe but have no being
We pray for children who want to be carried and for those who must
for those we never give up on
and for those who don't have a second chance
For those we smother... and for those who will grab the hand of
anybody kind enough to offer it.
Ina J. Hughes
At school we had a moment of silence. I used to resent it. "Please pause for a moment of silence," said the child who read the announcements every day. It used to mean nothing to me. It was just thirty seconds where I would mentally prepare for the school day ahead.
After a while, I tried to look into the eyes of each student. After a while they tried to make sure our eyes met. During that sort of sacred time, I prayed for children.
1 comment:
I have net some of these children. Tiny teenagers who have been hungry for so long their bodies suffer from nutritional dwarfism and whose brains suffer from worse. Children who are desperate for good teachers, a home, good water. Thanks for thinking of them.
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