Saturday, May 26, 2012

THE GINGERBREAD HOUSE

     It could have come out of the story "Hansel and Gretel" with its many colors on the gingerbread trim.  Sometimes the colors changed as if by magic.
     When I was a child we made the ninety mile trip from Belspring, to Bedford, Virginia, my Dad's boyhood home, in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  There were no interstate highways back then and most of  the roads were two lanes.  When we went to our grandparents we traveled Route 11 a good portion of the way.  Those ninety miles seemed almost endless to a small child.  To anticipate certain sights along the way helped to pass the time.  One of my favorites was the Gingerbread House.  I wanted to ask my Dad to stop on the side of the road so I could look at it closer.  I never did.  I turned my head and looked as long as the house was in sight.  Every time we passed it, which was about every two months, I made up a different story about the little house.  The stories always seemed to end up with me as a character. I wondered about the family who resided there.  Once in awhile I would catch a glimpse of a person on the tiny porch or in the yard.  What fun it must have been living in the little fairy tale cottage.
     In a few years the interstate came along and we didn't go by the Gingerbread House on the mountain on our trip to see our grandparents.
     Asa the years passed it's memory faded.  Just recently I thought of the colorful house and wondered it it was still standing.  I did what most of us do today;  I googled it and lo and behold sources came up giving information on the house and its former owners.  As far as I could determine the house is still standing, but not as in its colorful past.  I learned, also, that the reason it changed colors so often was that a local paint company used it to advertise their product.
     I carry only a picture in my mind but the little Gingerbread House along the side of the road remains one of my favorite childhood memories.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

THE READING CLASS IN THE BASEMENT

Reading has always been one of my favorite pass times.  As a child I would rather read than do my chores or even go outside and play with neighborhood children.  This got me in trouble at times and at others it was a key to opening doors that were closed to many.

I believe this love for reading  gave me opportunity to create the memory of the  "reading class in the basement."

                        THE READING CLASS IN THE BASEMENT

Belspring was in the poor end of the county and the school facilities gave evidence to that. The elementary school, grades one through seven were in a large brick building built in the 30s that was the high school at one time.  When I was in the sixth grade the county found money to add an addition that included classrooms for the first and second grades and inside restrooms.  This was a modern luxury that most of the students did not enjoy in their homes.  It certainly beat walking outside to the outhouses in the rain and snow.

The first and second grade classrooms had been in the basement for many years.  The rooms were damp in warm weather and boiling hot in the winter--the pipes from the furnace wove their way through the ceiling.  The kitchen and lunchroom were at the other end of the basement.  The open space in the middle was used for activities in bad weather and school functions in the evenings.  Cake walks were a popular fundraiser.

There was no library or media center.  As I mentioned in a previous story the school owned one 16 millimeter projector and one record player.  Other than the teachers' collections of books that was pretty much the extent of the media collection.  But contrary to the philosophy of learning today we did learn with meager resources--a teacher, a book, a student and a chalkboard.  There were students who found it difficult to progress at the same speed as the others. They required remedial classes but it was difficult for teachers to find the time back when life was even slower.

The principal and teachers in that school may have been ahead of their time.  They had taken the model of the one room school and modified it.  The fourth and fifth grades were divided and half of the fourth grade was put in the room with half of the fifth grade.  At first the students thought it a strange arrangement but as the school year progressed we realized it was  pretty good especially if you were in the lower grade.  We learned from others without even being aware of it.

When I was in the sixth grade I was given a reading group of second graders.  We met in the basement in the end of the cafeteria at 10:00 every morning.  The aromas of the lunch on that day wafted into our little corner of the room making it harder for us to keep our minds on reading.  I would guess that the majority of these children from a poor mining village had not eaten breakfast.

I listened and I encouraged.  I laughed with them.  I don't know how much help I gave them in learning to read.  I wonder where they are today and how well they have done in life.  I do know that the benefits I received as a shy, introverted preteen helped me to become a more confident and self-reliant teenager.  It is with great pride I recall my "reading class in the basement" when I was a sixth grader.

As a former teacher of children's literature, I encourage parents to read to their children, even before they are born.  Chances are great that you will have a child who loves words and reading.

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