Learning Restraint

Good Morning,

Can anyone remember the name of their kindergarden teacher? Mine was
Mrs Robertson. I remember the way she dressed like Lucy on the I love
Lucy show with her plaid skirts and fancy jackets.

I remember learning to write and I brought home many papers with
things I had learned how to spell and put together. Once, many years
later when looking at some things my mom had saved back (including
some of these papers} I noticed many mistakes in spelling, the
forming of letters, and usage, but no red corrections and many times
even a star. I have wondered many times why she never red-pencilled
in the right spellings of words or pointed out grammatical errors.

The lesson then handed over it's answer one day; as children we were
just beginning to get excited about using words, about forming
sentences. Why dampen that enthusiasm with red ink? Spelling,
grammar, usage can wait. The wonder of words wouldn't. Maybe she
didn't even think of it that way, but coming from a very critical and
controlling father it's an ideal I strive for in my daily life. It is
difficult at times due to the critical nature of my work and deeply
ingrained values to perform. Yet it occurs to me that if Mrs
Robertson had used her red pen more precisely I would have nothing to
ponder, no story to tell. I like to think she must have been an
incredible teacher- to exercise such red-pen-restraint. To allow the
joy, wonder and excitement of expression to flower- however faultily-
like that. Because to bloom is better than not to bloom. And a bud
once nipped never opens. May we all be so kind...

Thanks to Mrs Robertson I had no qualms about writing what I felt
even if couldn't quite spell it out. Because Life isn't Pretty. It's
Baeutiful.

Peace and Love, Jim