School is not as it used to be. Not to us dinosaurs anyway. I gave my grandson a card on his 13th birthday. He is an honor student, in 7th grade, but could not read the simple message I'd written in the card because it was in cursive. Who could have seen that turn of events coming?
Interested, because I'd taught 7th grade, I asked him what he was reading in English (or Language Arts) class. I was surprised, not to say a little appalled, to learn he'd never heard of O.Henry. Harking back to my teaching roots, I briefly recounted the story of "The Gift of the Magi." Since Della had secretly sold her glorious hair to buy Jim a fob for his treasured pocket watch as a Christmas gift, and Jim had likewise sold his watch to buy Della fancy combs for her crowning glory, what is the gift, I asked. Instantly, the littlest brother points his finger, and, in his best preacher's voice, declares, "Love!"
So, during those years when I was purportedly teaching the story, did the students know all along that which they really needed to know, and the class instruction and discussion an exercise in redundancy.
That may be so, but consider that this occurred at a family dinner, St. Patrick's Day, so the timing was propitious for those who love an audience. When the oldest diner asked what's for dessert, the youngest gleefully answered, "Conversation is the dessert." So cute. Isn't it?
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