Stories — THE VERY SPECIAL CHILDREN

                                    





Hope.  

It's a little bit like purpose -- you have to create it.

And some of us ultimately find that endeavor, that generation of hope, a purpose in its own right.  

And some of the best of us, create that hope for all of us. 

Thanks for your efforts -- (I'm doing what I can with my own.)








Selections from

The VERY SPECIAL CHILDREN

The Ray of Hope, The Cloud, The Soccer Ball, The Door, The New Moon, Who Is Lost?, The Marbles, 

The Circle, The Arms, The Butterfly, The Song, The Lantern, The Aerobics, The Trains,  The Baby Mouse, The Bug, The Gifts

A class at the Thomas Durham School 

Copyright 1992    Philadelphia PA    Michael S. Sommer, Ph.D.


The Ray of Hope

Once upon a time, a small ray of hope fell to earth from the sun. 

As time passed, this sunbeam came to love eight  very special children.

Their names were Aaron, Cory, Deborah, Elwood, Jenine, Lorraina, Myia and Rahsan.  

They spent their days in the school room with Miss Joyce, 

working and working and working.  

Each day the small sunbeam watched them.  

It saw them laugh, and read, and giggle, and stare, 

and write, and sneeze, and play tricks, and color, 

and talk, and sing, and jump and listen to stories.  

Each day the sunbeam loved them more, 

because each child had a good heart, 

deep respect for others, and a wonderful gift.  

Each day, the sunbeam was more and more a part of their lives.  

And each day, the sunbeam's light was dimmer, and dimmer, 

and dimmer.  

Until finally, its light was gone from the classroom.  

But now, the little ray of hope shined from deep within each child.  

And they all lived happily ever after.



The Baby Mouse

Once upon a time there were eight very special children.  

Their names were Aaron, Cory, Deborah, Elwood, Jenine, Lorraina, Myia and Rahsan.

One day, Miss Joyce told them the story of the owl and the lost baby mouse.  

"I am lost, I must get home, I am lost, I must get home, I am lost, I must get home," said the baby mouse.  

"Too late!  Too late!  Too late!," cried the owl, high in the dark forest.  

"It is never too late, never too late, never too late," said the baby mouse.  

And it ran, and it ran, and it ran, all the way home.  

And slammed the door shut.  

"Never too late!  Never too late!  Never too late!," cried the surprised owl. 

"It is never too late," whispered the children.

And they all lived happily ever after.



The Bug

Once upon a time there were eight very special children.  

Their names were Aaron, Cory, Deborah, Elwood, Jenine, Lorraina, Myia and Rahsan.

One quiet day, a fat, purple, shiny, fearsome, crawley bug walked into the classroom and sat right behind Lorraina.  

Then the bug waited, and waited, and waited.  

Suddenly, Lorraina felt a little tickling, tiny walking feet, 

kind of slithery feeling on her neck.  

She yelled "Help!," "Help!," and jumped up and grabbed Aaron.  

And Cory jumped up and grabbed Deborah.  

And Elwood jumped up and grabbed Jenine.  

And Myia jumped up and grabbed Rahsan.  

And Miss Joyce just sat there, looked right at the bug, and shook her head quietly.  

Then the bug looked back at Miss Joyce, shrugged its shoulders, 

and walked straight home.

And they all lived happily ever after.



The New Moon

Once upon a time there were eight very special children.  

Their names were Aaron, Cory, Deborah, Elwood, Jenine, Lorraina, Myia and Rahsan.

One noisy day, everything that could go wrong, went wrong.  

And everyone who could be unhappy, was unhappy.  

And anyone who could be angry at someone else, was  angry at someone else.  

It was a hard day.  

Then Miss Joyce looked gently at each child, and said, "Tonight there is a new moon, and new moons are for forgiveness."  

And she sat down.  

Aaron stopped hammering, Cory stopped making bird noises, Deborah stopped running, Elwood stopped fidgeting, Jenine stopped looking out the window, Lorraina stopped jumping, Myia stopped humming, and Rahsan stopped drawing.  

Why is the moon new?," said Cory.  

"It is the same old moon," said Miss Joyce, "but when it comes back, we remember how important our friends are."  

Then the children looked at each other, very, very quietly.

And they all lived happily ever after.



The Door

Once upon a time there were eight very special children.  

Their names were Aaron, Cory, Deborah, Elwood, Jenine, Lorraina, Myia and Rahsan.

One rainy day, when Miss Joyce had just finished reading them a story, there was a loud Knock!, Knock!, Knock!, on the classroom door.  

"Who would knock at our door?," they wondered.  

But no one moved.  

Miss Joyce looked at the door but sat very still.  

Aaron looked at Rahsan.  

And Cory looked at Myia.  

And Deborah looked at Lorraina. 

And Elwood looked at Jenine.  

But no one moved.  

Finally, after a long, long time, Aaron walked over to the door and opened it.  

But no one was there.  

"Who was knocking at our door?," they all wondered.  

But no one ever knew.

And they all lived happily ever after.



The Cloud

Once upon a time there were eight very special children.  

Their names were Aaron, Cory, Deborah, Elwood, Jenine, Lorraina, Myia and Rahsan.

One day, when they were working and working and working, and Miss Joyce was not looking, a little cloud floated softly into their classroom.  

"Who are you?," whispered Elwood.  

"I am a baby cloud and I am lost and I am very upset," said the cloud crying."

Where are you from?," whispered Lorraina.  

"Up there," said the baby cloud, pointing out the window at the sky.  

"How did you get in here?," whispered Deborah.  

"I wish I knew," responded the baby cloud.  

Suddenly, the air was filled with a great, thunderous, booming voice which said, "WHERE IS MY LITTLE BABY?"  

Miss Joyce jumped and Aaron jumped and Cory jumped and Deborah jumped and Elwood jumped and Jenine jumped and Lorraina jumped and Myia jumped and Rahsan jumped.  

"Mommy, you found me!," cried the baby cloud, and flew right out the window and up into the sky. 

Then Miss Joyce looked at the children very, very quietly and said, "What has been going on?"  

But they just smiled and smiled and smiled, and said nothing. 

And they all lived happily ever after.





                  



                                   

                                                                      

                                                                                              




                                                 



       

© Michael S. Sommer, Ph.D, 2017