Good kids are hard to find, so keep looking!

Sorry about not posting lately, but after I got back from the Holy Land (a.k.a. Disneyland) things got pretty busy. By the way, photos and stories will be uploaded soon, I promise!

However I had to post this. Last week the library I work at had a class visit. For those of you who do not speak libraryese, what this means is that a classroom of children made a visit to the library.

This time it was a class of second grade kids, so ages about 7 or so. This is an important fact, okay? The kids had a blast, we did a mini-storytime for them, showed them all around the library, and answered any questions that they might have.

One young kid, we will call him Tyler (and, Asian Eddie, it is _not_ that Tyler either, this is a younger version) was asking questions of a coworker of mine, who was already wrangling three other children. So I stepped in. He wanted books on how to speak German, and I thought he was a neat kid... not many want to learn another language at 7. I showed him where the books to learn German were, as well as books on tape and cd, so that he could listen to the sounds of the words. He was really enthusiastic. Then he asked for books about Europe. I showed him the section, and that is when he opened up.

He was so happy, and said that he was German, and wanted to see pictures of where his family came from. Out of all the kids who were running around throwing books around, I got the one kid who really wanted to learn. It was awesome! So I said that I am Irish. His smile got bigger and said that his grandmother was Irish, but the rest of his family was German.

When I asked if he was going to go to Germany sometime for a vacation, he somberly replied, "When I am an adult." This kid was acting so politely, and so mature, I really was impressed by him, and how he was being raised by his family.

But you know what? NEVER EVER make assumptions!!! I forgot that bit of wisdom!

Because next the kid, about 7 remember... told me that if the "coloreds" kept taking over America, he was going to move to Europe.

I was so freaking shocked by the little Nazi, I went in back, and told a co-worker. She took a look outside the door and said the kid had been snotty to her.

On his way out, he stopped, and tanked me for all the help I had given him, and said that if I wanted to know, his name was Tyler. Another coworker of mine, who had heard the tale by that time, said "I guess he can tell you his name, since you are white."

He's seven... and already has attitudes like that. Just shoot the parents.

Mary Poppins - Poem of the Month

It's August! Yet another month has passed away, never to come back this way again. With that depressing intro, here is the poem for the month of August..


The Death of Mary Poppins

Yes, I murdered Mary Poppins.
Dead with one thrust of my knife.
Her cheery dispostition,
T'was the reason I took her life.

Although she spread joy to the world,
With her famous smile,
Though she made children laugh,
I saw her bound and brought to trial.

Mary Poppins, yes, I condemed thee.
For all the love you gave
It was never, will never, be enough,
For the children you did not save.

Children who still remain hurt.
Children who still get abused.
Their terrors quite real,
Their lives scared and confused.

So, what about the ones
To whom you never came.
Who sat wishing for your touch
To take away their pain?

Mary Poppins, with empty words
You promised love and happiness.
But though you tried, you lied, and knew
Some would still suffer in darkness.

Mary Poppins, Marry Poppins,
How much harder it is to remain
Trapped in a life of tragedy,
Waiting for the promise who never came.

I murdered Mary Poppins.
Dead with one thrust of my knife.
You see, her cheery dispostition,
T'was the reason I took her life.

Poem of the Month

Well since I am way new to blogging, I thought I would start off with a poem I wrote... since I doubt anyone will ever see it anyway :)

But if you do, please be kind in your criticism.

THE KNIGHT

His armor glints in the mid-day light.
Visor down, his face hidden from view.
All they see of him, his armor.
No one sees, no one knows,
The man inside.

Ready for the next battle,
One in an endless theme.
He hides his wounds and his scars
Behind a metallic sheen.
No one knows the man inside.

Does he smile, when he cries,
It's all the same
To the world outside.
His visor down, his secrets safe,
No one knows the man inside.

In time, he himself has forgot,
Who he is, and who he was.
His armor shields him tight,
His outer shell now more real than he.
No one knows the man inside.

Then one day, the armor rang hollow.
It's folds of metal guarding no one.
All that remains- the brightly polished
Armor, standing alone, empty.
No one ever knew the man inside.