Being a teacher,,, not an easy task. In it, demanded dedication, and
also persistence. There should also patience, and compassion in conveying
lesson. Because, in fact, teachers not only educate, but also teaches.
Only certain people are able to run it.
Being a teacher is not something easy. Moreover, a teacher for
children who have the "privilege". And I feel so lucky to
be their teacher, although only in a few hours. There is a pleasure
separate, are in the middle of children with Cerebral Palsy background
(Back of brain disorder syndrome).
One time, I was asked to assist a teacher in the classroom
for persons with disabilities. The class, called the preparatory class, an
classes that are in early stage, children
there were between 9-12 years, but their ability is equivalent to child
aged 4-5 years, or class 0 small.
At present there, the classes appeared to be crowded. They apparently were playing flat
shape and color. There shouted a hoarse-shouting odd, and tugs
a constant head of them. There is also a stiff hands, which were
arrange the pieces of the diagram. Here and there scattered wood and plastic toys.
Boisterous. Special benches crackling, rub in a wheelchair part
children who collided with the floor.
I felt awkward with all that. However, that feeling is gone, while viewing
a teacher who looked so diligently to accompany the children there. "Let's go,
Here sat near older, more and more clever you know she makes the letter, "so called
to me. I walked, past the children who are still busy with the task
them. Ah come on, brother, 11-year-old child who suffered cerebral
Palsy with enlarged heads, were smiling to me. Her body
bouncing, hand calling out as if to show off with
cleverness arrange the letters.
brother bounced back. I was shocked. I smiled. He
chuckling laugh. Soon, we began to familiar. He was not embarrassed again assisted
set of numbers and letters. Stacking-stacking-paste-paste, so that we do.
Ahh, I began to enjoy this job. He was now looking clings in hand
me. Without the feel, I stroked his head and held it to his chest. Feel
peaceful and warm.
Meanwhile in another corner, his mother a teacher to be patient once accompany all children
there. He led the children's hands to pursue the image structures.
each finger with diligence, while occasionally invite them
smile. His hands never stopped stroking soft fingertips is weak.
However, no one had ever complained, and angry that I heard.
Time runs so fast. And now, time to go home. After
clean up some games, the children were getting on each seat.
Hands folded on the table, and gaze towards the front of the plain, I believe,
make everyone smile. The teacher began leading the prayer, directing each
child to set eyes and say your hope in God.
Peace. Peace was a spy who shut it. Shade. Calm view
their eyes are all closed. Four hours had me with "the angels"
small. Exhausted and tired I felt, seemed insignificant compared to
with inner experiences that I experienced. Now, they move, the march toward
the exit.
Again and again I was touched. Arriving in front of me, they all fell silent,
signaled to kiss his hand. Yes, they kissed my hand, while
said, "Good afternoon Mr. Teacher .." Ah, a sincere word that makes me
soared. teacher ... The teacher, once said they one by one. Wheelchair
they rattled every time they pedaled toward me.
Crackle-crackle it again makes me thrilled, imagining their efforts to
just kissed my hand.
The last child had kissed my hand. Now, my gaze moves to
side, toward the back of the children who walk to the exit. In silence
I say, ".. the kids goodbye, goodbye angels
My little ... "I let the tears that trickled in between the petals. I
let the grains fall, to describe my feelings of emotion and pride. Proud
to their struggle, and also touched on the spirit they had.
Friend, be a teacher rather than flashy job. Being a teacher is not a job
that glitters. There was no flickering lights that shine, too
glow-glow every time the teachers are dedicated. Because
they are not celebrities, nor the star of the stage.
However, there is something precious there. At the teacher there is flickering light
virtue of any value they teach. Through the teacher is radiating
phosphorescence-ray fluorescence sincerity and honesty in the work they do.
They are the source of the light-light, which illuminates every heart young protégé
them.
From our teachers learn to spell words and sentences. In our teacher learning
the vague language of the world. Through the teacher, we learn manners, learn
hone liver, plumbed conscience. Through all our teachers understand about
many things that we did not understand before.
Friend, if you want to feel the inner experience is different, try being a teacher.
Feel the pleasure as each of the kids call you by this title,
and let the attentive eye that meets your heart. There's something
different there.
also persistence. There should also patience, and compassion in conveying
lesson. Because, in fact, teachers not only educate, but also teaches.
Only certain people are able to run it.
Being a teacher is not something easy. Moreover, a teacher for
children who have the "privilege". And I feel so lucky to
be their teacher, although only in a few hours. There is a pleasure
separate, are in the middle of children with Cerebral Palsy background
(Back of brain disorder syndrome).
One time, I was asked to assist a teacher in the classroom
for persons with disabilities. The class, called the preparatory class, an
classes that are in early stage, children
there were between 9-12 years, but their ability is equivalent to child
aged 4-5 years, or class 0 small.
At present there, the classes appeared to be crowded. They apparently were playing flat
shape and color. There shouted a hoarse-shouting odd, and tugs
a constant head of them. There is also a stiff hands, which were
arrange the pieces of the diagram. Here and there scattered wood and plastic toys.
Boisterous. Special benches crackling, rub in a wheelchair part
children who collided with the floor.
I felt awkward with all that. However, that feeling is gone, while viewing
a teacher who looked so diligently to accompany the children there. "Let's go,
Here sat near older, more and more clever you know she makes the letter, "so called
to me. I walked, past the children who are still busy with the task
them. Ah come on, brother, 11-year-old child who suffered cerebral
Palsy with enlarged heads, were smiling to me. Her body
bouncing, hand calling out as if to show off with
cleverness arrange the letters.
brother bounced back. I was shocked. I smiled. He
chuckling laugh. Soon, we began to familiar. He was not embarrassed again assisted
set of numbers and letters. Stacking-stacking-paste-paste, so that we do.
Ahh, I began to enjoy this job. He was now looking clings in hand
me. Without the feel, I stroked his head and held it to his chest. Feel
peaceful and warm.
Meanwhile in another corner, his mother a teacher to be patient once accompany all children
there. He led the children's hands to pursue the image structures.
each finger with diligence, while occasionally invite them
smile. His hands never stopped stroking soft fingertips is weak.
However, no one had ever complained, and angry that I heard.
Time runs so fast. And now, time to go home. After
clean up some games, the children were getting on each seat.
Hands folded on the table, and gaze towards the front of the plain, I believe,
make everyone smile. The teacher began leading the prayer, directing each
child to set eyes and say your hope in God.
Peace. Peace was a spy who shut it. Shade. Calm view
their eyes are all closed. Four hours had me with "the angels"
small. Exhausted and tired I felt, seemed insignificant compared to
with inner experiences that I experienced. Now, they move, the march toward
the exit.
Again and again I was touched. Arriving in front of me, they all fell silent,
signaled to kiss his hand. Yes, they kissed my hand, while
said, "Good afternoon Mr. Teacher .." Ah, a sincere word that makes me
soared. teacher ... The teacher, once said they one by one. Wheelchair
they rattled every time they pedaled toward me.
Crackle-crackle it again makes me thrilled, imagining their efforts to
just kissed my hand.
The last child had kissed my hand. Now, my gaze moves to
side, toward the back of the children who walk to the exit. In silence
I say, ".. the kids goodbye, goodbye angels
My little ... "I let the tears that trickled in between the petals. I
let the grains fall, to describe my feelings of emotion and pride. Proud
to their struggle, and also touched on the spirit they had.
Friend, be a teacher rather than flashy job. Being a teacher is not a job
that glitters. There was no flickering lights that shine, too
glow-glow every time the teachers are dedicated. Because
they are not celebrities, nor the star of the stage.
However, there is something precious there. At the teacher there is flickering light
virtue of any value they teach. Through the teacher is radiating
phosphorescence-ray fluorescence sincerity and honesty in the work they do.
They are the source of the light-light, which illuminates every heart young protégé
them.
From our teachers learn to spell words and sentences. In our teacher learning
the vague language of the world. Through the teacher, we learn manners, learn
hone liver, plumbed conscience. Through all our teachers understand about
many things that we did not understand before.
Friend, if you want to feel the inner experience is different, try being a teacher.
Feel the pleasure as each of the kids call you by this title,
and let the attentive eye that meets your heart. There's something
different there.
