As I was leaving the other day I overheard a little boy in one of my classes telling our art teacher that she'd sent the wrong clay pot home with him.
"It's going to be ok" he explained bravely, "B. will bring in mine and then we'll switch".
My heart immediately went out to him. How I understood!
In second grade we made star ornaments out of clay. Once the clay was dry the teacher called us back and let us show her which star ornament was ours so we could paint it. So trusting of her... As I sat at my seat doing my work I watched another child take credit for my carefully crafted star. MY STAR! My heart sank when it was my turn and the teacher made me paint the lumpy star-like figure the star-stealer had made. How could I take this ugly star home to my parents? I wanted to cry but being the good, painfully shy second grader that I was, I'm sure I kept quiet until I came home and then told my parents about it.
We still hang the star on our Christmas tree, although every year we discuss the unfairness of the star switch. I can still feel my second grade heart's pain when I realized all those moments spent on the perfect points would only benefit someone else's Christmas tree.
The switch for my kiddos was merely a case of a mistaken identity~ the boys had the same initials. There was no trickery in one child taking another's work. Still, by the look on the little one's face talking to our art teacher I could understand his woe. (I have not heard if the boys have switched back or not, or if either still care a week later they even remember or care... I want to ask but don't want to bring up a touchy subject)
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