The Little Boy

The Little Boy

Once a little boy went to school

One morning

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make a picture".

"Good!" thought the little boy.

He liked to make all kinds;

Lions and tigers,

Chickens and cows,

Trains and boats;

And he took out his box of crayons

And began to draw.

But the teacher said, "Wait!"

"It is not time to begin!"

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,

"We are going to make flowers".

"Good!" thought the little boy.

He liked to make beautiful ones 

With his pink and orange and blue crayons.

But the teacher said "Wait!"

"And I will show you how."

And it was red, with a green stem.

"There" said the teacher

"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked down at his teacher's flower

Then he looked down at his own flower.

He liked his flower better than his teacher's

But he did not say this.

He just turned his paper over,

And made a flower like the teacher's.

It was red, with a green stem.

On another day

The teacher said:

"Today we're going to make something with clay."

"Good!" thought the little boy;

He liked clay.

He could make all kind of things with clay:

Snakes and snowmen,

Elephants and mice, 

Cars and trucks.

And he began to pull and pinch

His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, "Wait!"

"It is not time to begin!"

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,

"We are going to make a dish."

"Good!" thought the little boy,

He liked to make dishes.

And he began to make some

That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said "Wait!"

"And I will show you how."

And she showed everyone how to make

One deep dish.

"There" said the teacher,

"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked down at the teacher's dish;

Then he looked at his own.

He liked his better than the teacher's

But he did not say this.

He just rolled the clay into a big ball again

And made a dish like the teacher's.

It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon

The little boy learned to wait,

And to watch

And to make things just like the teacher.

And pretty soon

He didn't make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened

That the little boy and his family

Moved to another house,

 In another city,

And the little boy

Had to go to another school.

The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make a picture."

"Good!" thought the little boy.

And he waited for the teacher

To tell what to do.

But the teacher didn't say anything.

She just walked round the room.

When she came to the little boy

She asked, "Don't you want to make a picture?"

"Yes," said the little boy.

"What are we going to make?"

"I don't know until you make it." said the teacher.

"How shall I make it?" asked the little boy.

"Why, anyway you like" said the teacher.

"And any colour?" asked the little boy.

"Any colour" said the teacher.

And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

Helen Buckley.

When my own son was a little boy they did a project at school about Van Gogh. One day they were all asked to paint sunflowers in a similar style. My little boy didn't fancy that so he went off piste and decided to do his own interpretation with all the black shadowing. His teacher told him off, but he didn't see the problem. Thankfully his teacher was a wonderful chap who embraced and encouraged his eccentricities. The greatest compliment anybody ever paid me about him was when this teacher said that after 20+ years of teaching my son's highly "individual" approach to the work set [That's Aspergers for you!] had made him fall back in love with it and reminded him of why he had set out on his teaching path originally. He retired a few years ago.

Arilx

The painting hangs by our front door.