Moments

There are many rich moments captured as I deal with children and their spontaneity. As the day progresses, from the first smiles to the goodbyes, the small events become bonding moments. Each day could be captured in small moments and each learning encompasses a wide spectrum of interests. Seizing those real meanings become priceless.

As a teacher, I do project stories as a springboard for my lessons. My project stories had simply evolved throughout the years, based on the differing interests and levels of enthusiasms manifested by different sets of children. From pond life to communication and to movement, the stories become building stones of learning and of new knowledge not only in the part of the children but also to me as an educator.

To encapsulate the moments of learning inspires me to do better when I could be. It inspires me to work when I see delightful faces and sense of wonder from the young children I am involved with. It inspires me to make changes and accept mistakes and failures. It inspires me to teach and to be a better person. It makes me grow.

I simply adore putting into one documentation board a moment that plays an important part to a child's discovery and exploration of something relevant. My struggle is to make some people see that the product of this endevour is to document and not to show off my skills not only in making boards but in making a child's learning open for re-visitation. I am inspired so it shows in my work. However, there are some who simply wish to pull me down and I am affected. Rather than be encouraged, I am downright mocked.

I will still do my duty because I enjoy doing good things for myself and for the young children that I teach. No one man could stop me from doing what I am good at, or great at, and that is to teach. It's my moment and I need to embrace it.

Inner Beauty

There is this tree in our school that bears some of the most beautiful flowers and fruits ever. It is called the Rose Apple. When the flowers bloom, each and every hair like strand from the flower falls from the tree branches as if there was a shower. When the greenish fruit turns red, they looked like clusters of bells ready to chime and sing their lyrical songs. I just adore the appearance.

There is one problem though. The beauty of the fruit is a facade to what is inside those lovely red bells. Other rose apples are edible but this one is not. When they fall down from their branches and we opened them up, the flesh of the fruits were eaten up by maggots. For some that remained hanging, the taste was bland and sometimes, raw and inedible.

My outside beauty is nil since I am blessed with typical features. I rarely smile and I don't interact well with other adults. I am not a party goer nor keen in attending celebrations, basically shy in many aspects. I am but ordinary. But my inner beauty shines like a beacon when I work with children. I hold good intentions and leads my students to greater strides. I am but extraordinary.

Beauty gets no admiration when we know nothing about good manners. A simple good morning that couldn't be reciprocated or a nod or smile to acknowledge one's presence. Beauty becomes superficial when what we see is just the face or the body, and yet the inside is lacking in quality. Beauty becomes nothing when we look only from the outside.

The rose apples remind me of how I should be contented of what I have. The outside is simply a facade, an image that acts as a vessel. What's more important is what is inside us, something that demands a higher recognition and admiration. Beauty and good attitude should go hand in hand. For those who think they are but ordinary, we could celebrate our inner beauty through good deeds and kind words. For by doing so, we radiate beauty, inside out.

Washed Away

Wash away my sorrows

so as I may live with less despair.

Wash away my worries

and turn them to peace of mind.

Wash away my anxieties

that makes it hard to see tomorrow.

Wash away the insecurities

for it constantly drags me down.

Wash away my anger

for love cannot find its way.

Wash away my growing pain

just a smile to ease its presence.

Wash away my lost way

to find myself a new direction.

Wash away my resigned hope

to renew my ailing spirit.