If there is anything this Teacher learned from her fellow bloggers, it is to have as many followers. This blogspot is envisioned as the niche of teachers. So, fellow mentors, anyone?
How does Teacher plan to go about this nook? Only Providence can tell but expect poems, stories and anecdotes that are written by teachers or are about teachers.
The Worldbook Prospectus incorporates a poem which when analyzed in depth somehow refers to parents as teachers. It states:
The Sculptor
I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it, one day,
And as my fingers pressed it, still
It moved and yielded to my will.
I came again, when days were passed
That bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it, still it bore
And I could change that form no more.
Then I took a piece of living clay
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child's soft and yielding heart.
I came again when years were gone,
It was a man I looked upon,
He still that impress bore,
And I could change it nevermore.
Beloved reader bloggers, any reaction, feedback, insight? Allow the teacher in Malaybalayan to share some of her reflection points in the next post. See you!
I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it, one day,
And as my fingers pressed it, still
It moved and yielded to my will.
I came again, when days were passed
That bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it, still it bore
And I could change that form no more.
Then I took a piece of living clay
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child's soft and yielding heart.
I came again when years were gone,
It was a man I looked upon,
He still that impress bore,
And I could change it nevermore.
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