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Hi you lovely people

 

Grovelling apolgies for asking but I have spent ages and ages searching the forum for a poem and I know it is here somewhere :o

 

It's about a little boy at school who wants to paint and gets excited but is told to wait to be shown how to paint, there are a few verses - I think it's really sad as he ends up at a new school and waiting to be told how to paint.

If anyone know the one i mean and can point me in the right direction I would be eternally grateful, it's not through a lack of hunting effort on my part honestly!!

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WOW that was record breking searching and THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH

 

as promised ......

 

 

PS Did I dream a different ending to the poem? I thought he moved schools and at his first art lesson he stood and waited but the teacher wondered why he hadn't 'done his own thing'

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Once a little boy went to school.

He was quite a little boy

And it was quite a big school.

But when the little boy

Found that he could go to his room

By walking right in from the door outside

He was happy;

And the school did not seem

Quite so big anymore.

 

One morning

When the little boy had been in school awhile,

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make a picture."

"Good!" thought the little boy.

He liked to make all kinds;

Lions and tigers,

Chickens and cows,

Trains and boats;

And he took out his box of crayons

And began to draw.

 

But the teacher said, "Wait!"

"It is not time to begin!"

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,

"We are going to make flowers."

"Good!" thought the little boy,

He liked to make beautiful ones

With his pink and orange and blue crayons.

But the teacher said "Wait!"

"And I will show you how."

And it was red, with a green stem.

"There," said the teacher,

"Now you may begin."

 

The little boy looked at his teacher's flower

Then he looked at his own flower.

He liked his flower better than the teacher's

But he did not say this.

He just turned his paper over,

And made a flower like the teacher's.

It was red, with a green stem.

 

On another day

When the little boy had opened

The door from the outside all by himself,

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make something with clay."

"Good!" thought the little boy;

He liked clay.

He could make all kinds of things with clay:

Snakes and snowmen,

Elephants and mice,

Cars and trucks

And he began to pull and pinch

His ball of clay.

 

But the teacher said, "Wait!"

"It is not time to begin!"

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,

"We are going to make a dish."

"Good!" thought the little boy,

He liked to make dishes.

And he began to make some

That were all shapes and sizes.

 

But the teacher said "Wait!"

"And I will show you how."

And she showed everyone how to make

One deep dish.

"There," said the teacher,

"Now you may begin."

 

The little boy looked at the teacher's dish;

Then he looked at his own.

He liked his better than the teacher's

But he did not say this.

He just rolled his clay into a big ball again

And made a dish like the teacher's.

It was a deep dish.

 

And pretty soon

The little boy learned to wait,

And to watch

And to make things just like the teacher.

And pretty soon

He didn't make things of his own anymore.

 

Then it happened

That the little boy and his family

Moved to another house,

In another city,

And the little boy

Had to go to another school.

This school was even bigger

Than the other one.

And there was no door from the outside

Into his room.

He had to go up some big steps

And walk down a long hall

To get to his room.

And the very first day

He was there,

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make a picture."

"Good!" thought the little boy.

And he waited for the teacher

To tell what to do.

But the teacher didn't say anything.

She just walked around the room.

 

When she came to the little boy

She asked, "Don't you want to make a picture?"

"Yes," said the lttle boy.

"What are we going to make?"

"I don't know until you make it," said the teacher.

"How shall I make it?" asked the little boy.

"Why, anyway you like," said the teacher.

"And any color?" asked the little boy.

"Any color," said the teacher.

"If everyone made the same picture,

And used the same colors,

How would I know who made what,

And which was which?"

"I don't know," said the little boy.

.And he began to make pink and orange and blue flowers.

 

He liked his new school,

Even if it didn't have a door

Right in from the outside!

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:o I think I've been attending the Childminder drop-in at the CC attached to the first school............. (I don't go anymore, honest!)

 

Nona

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Once a little boy went to school.

He was quite a little boy

And it was quite a big school.

But when the little boy

Found that he could go to his room

By walking right in from the door outside

He was happy;

And the school did not seem

Quite so big anymore.

 

One morning

When the little boy had been in school awhile,

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make a picture."

"Good!" thought the little boy.

He liked to make all kinds;

Lions and tigers,

Chickens and cows,

Trains and boats;

And he took out his box of crayons

And began to draw.

 

But the teacher said, "Wait!"

"It is not time to begin!"

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,

"We are going to make flowers."

"Good!" thought the little boy,

He liked to make beautiful ones

With his pink and orange and blue crayons.

But the teacher said "Wait!"

"And I will show you how."

And it was red, with a green stem.

"There," said the teacher,

"Now you may begin."

 

The little boy looked at his teacher's flower

Then he looked at his own flower.

He liked his flower better than the teacher's

But he did not say this.

He just turned his paper over,

And made a flower like the teacher's.

It was red, with a green stem.

 

On another day

When the little boy had opened

The door from the outside all by himself,

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make something with clay."

"Good!" thought the little boy;

He liked clay.

He could make all kinds of things with clay:

Snakes and snowmen,

Elephants and mice,

Cars and trucks

And he began to pull and pinch

His ball of clay.

 

But the teacher said, "Wait!"

"It is not time to begin!"

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,

"We are going to make a dish."

"Good!" thought the little boy,

He liked to make dishes.

And he began to make some

That were all shapes and sizes.

 

But the teacher said "Wait!"

"And I will show you how."

And she showed everyone how to make

One deep dish.

"There," said the teacher,

"Now you may begin."

 

The little boy looked at the teacher's dish;

Then he looked at his own.

He liked his better than the teacher's

But he did not say this.

He just rolled his clay into a big ball again

And made a dish like the teacher's.

It was a deep dish.

 

And pretty soon

The little boy learned to wait,

And to watch

And to make things just like the teacher.

And pretty soon

He didn't make things of his own anymore.

 

Then it happened

That the little boy and his family

Moved to another house,

In another city,

And the little boy

Had to go to another school.

This school was even bigger

Than the other one.

And there was no door from the outside

Into his room.

He had to go up some big steps

And walk down a long hall

To get to his room.

And the very first day

He was there,

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make a picture."

"Good!" thought the little boy.

And he waited for the teacher

To tell what to do.

But the teacher didn't say anything.

She just walked around the room.

 

When she came to the little boy

She asked, "Don't you want to make a picture?"

"Yes," said the lttle boy.

"What are we going to make?"

"I don't know until you make it," said the teacher.

"How shall I make it?" asked the little boy.

"Why, anyway you like," said the teacher.

"And any color?" asked the little boy.

"Any color," said the teacher.

"If everyone made the same picture,

And used the same colors,

How would I know who made what,

And which was which?"

"I don't know," said the little boy.

.And he began to make pink and orange and blue flowers.

 

He liked his new school,

Even if it didn't have a door

Right in from the outside!

 

THANK YOU sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much :o I really really appreciate it and nice to know I wasn't dreaming about how the poem ended!

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We used to have a category in the resource library for poems and motivational content but it seems that got taken off with the re-organisation a year or two ago. I'll make another one and put it there.

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THANK YOU sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much :o I really really appreciate it and nice to know I wasn't dreaming about how the poem ended!

 

 

Always brings a lump to my throat when I read it!! xD

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The poem comes from a book which is really good full of things like that it is called

Chicken soup for the soul by Jack Canfield and mark Victor Hansen (stories that restore your faith in human nature) they also do chicken soup for the teachers soul among others

 

Another good one from the book is:

 

All I Ever Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

 

- by Robert Fulghum

 

Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned in Kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate school mountain, but there in the sandbox at nursery school.

 

These are the things I learned: Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work some every day.

 

Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out into the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the plastic cup. The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.

 

Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the plastic cup - they all die. So do we.

 

And then remember the book about Dick and Jane and the first word you learned, the biggest word of all: LOOK . Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation, ecology and politics and sane living.

 

Think of what a better world it would be if we all - the whole world - had cookies and milk about 3 o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankets for a nap. Or if we had a basic policy in our nation and other nations to always put things back where we found them and clean up our own messes. And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.

 

Emma :-)

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