Reminiscing

This picture comes to us via the Tuscon Waldorf School

Thinking of Kristen's description of her kids' school as a hippie preschool.

I used to teach there, thirteen-and-some-change years ago. I loved the simplicity of the rhythm of the day, the sweet, simple songs, the healthy snacks, the enchanting poetry the children memorized.

One of Emma's (now 17) favorites, now loved by John and Caroline, by Rowena Bastin Bennett:

Down in the grasses
Where the grasshoppers hop
And the katydids quarrel
And the flutter-moths flop-
Down in the grasses
Where the beetle goes “plop”,
An old withered fairy Keeps a second-hand shop.
She sells lost thimbles
For fairy milk pails
And burnt-out matches
For fence posts and rails.
She sells stray marbles
To bowl on the green,
And bright scattered beads
For the crown of the queen.

Oh, don’t feel badly
Over things that you lose
Like spin tops and whistles
Or dolls’ buckled shoes;
They may be the things that Fairy folk can use,
For down in the grasses
Where the grasshoppers hop
A withered old fairy
Keeps a second-hand shop.

The book is back in print, for who knows how long. From this bibliophile: Buy it before it sells out.