A teacher is like a mother duck.
A mother duck waddling about with 35 little ducklings trailing behind.
Fledglings really, learning how to use their wings and fly.
And making lots of noise in the process. A gaggle, a gargle, gurgly quacks
Sometimes you might even want to pull all the feathers from your head out of frustration.
But behind the frustration there is always lots of love.
Love.
A teacher loves with all her feathers.
A teacher loves all the little quirks and quacks.
A quacky love.
What happens when one little fledgling will never feel the starlight on her wings or fly with windy delight?
The world fills up with clouds of stormy rain.
Yet, the duck waddles on with 34 little ducklings trailing behind.
And through the clouds you still smile brightly, for the 34 little ducklings trailing behind.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
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