It’s a half hour long and they do a few finger plays (“Open Them, Shut Them” “Two Little Hands” and the weekly special, this time it was “Snowflakes, Snowflakes”). They also read a couple books, play some games (like tossing the “snowballs” [rolled up paper] into a can, or helping to build a felt snowman), and watch a short video (about five minutes).
For the last few minutes of the class, the parents come in and help them do a craft. It’s usually some cute little textbook creation that involves gluing the pieces together or putting stickers on or something of that sort.
He wasn’t too fond of the crafts this time around. Last session, in the fall, he did the crafts with the utmost care and forethought and was usually the last one done. This time he got it done as fast as possible so he could resume his precious play with the train set outside the door. Maybe it was just today, but my observation is that his love for the train set has been growing, not diminishing. And for that matter, his memory has, too (I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent the entire class thinking about his unfinished business with Thomas the Tank Engine).
Thankfully, he keeps his composure despite his undying love for those tracks. When called away from it, he comes, without a fuss. “But I don’t want anyone to play with my trains” he carefully reminds me as he walks toward me, his head turned as his eyes are still fixed on his abandoned box cars, flat beds and engines.
What can I say? He’s all boy. And he loves his trains. And even though he was excited about the class, and even though I’m sure he enjoys it, his real love is with the engines.
And perhaps, by the end of the class, he’ll learn to actually talkto and play with the other 2- and 3-year-old freight-lovers. Maybe.
“Speak, I pray you, in the ears of all the men of Shechem…”