School stories

I love hearing his stories about school. How he helped his Chinese teacher to carry a stack of books all by himself to the staff room. How his hand was hurt as a result of that. 

The day his class performed in the library was something he looked forward to. He played the xylophone while some of his friends played the keyboard, drum and other percussion instruments. 

The first time he stayed back during recess to complete corrections was a sad recount of how he had to gobble up the sandwich Mummy made for him early in the morning. There was a long queue of pupils all waiting for the teacher to mark their corrections. He lamented he almost couldn’t finish his food and was left with only 15 min recess time! I could only smile, consoling him that at least he could eat his sandwich.

I love hearing who he played with during recess. His adventures with a cheeky but kind boy amused me sometimes. Their imaginative game of catching Pokémon seemed rather creative to me. And then there was this constant conversations with a girl that made me wonder what could transpire so much between them.

Once, another friend threw a whiteboard marker out of the window and it landed on a car with a thud. He seemed relieved that it wasn’t his grandma’s car. 

He has never been great at Art but has always been fond of his Art lessons. He came home telling me all about his plan for his playground. Over the weekend, we collected a few recycled materials for him to use in his art work. The day he had his Art lesson, he came home bursting through my bedroom door, telling me excitedly he had made a card for me. It was a Mother’s Day card. I couldn’t hide my surprise when I learned that it was his Art teacher who asked the 
class to make cards for their mothers.  I thought he would have started on his playground project that day. What amazed me most was the maze activity on the last page of the card. After asking me to complete the activity, he even marked it with a tick! 

He enjoyed buying food for his Chinese teacher and he looked forward to helping him every week. He shared with me how he and his friend queued up to buy food for their teacher and even used their money once to pay for the 
food first. I gently reminded him to ask for the money from his teacher the next day. 

And then there was a classmate who fell and hurt himself so badly there was blood all over his hand. He told me his friend had fainted when in actual fact (he found out the next day) his friend was in so much pain he closed his eyes. He then detailed how the friend was taken to the Care Room and how he hovered around like a fly outside the room just to see his friend. 

In a semester, he had gone for 3 excursions. His bits and pieces of his day out of school always filled me with a sense of joy and I thank God for these exposure outside school. 

I wonder when he’s 12, 18 and 25 years old,  if he will still find the time to tell stories to his not-so-young mummy. At that time, I hope I’ll still remember to ask him, “How was your day? Tell me about it.”