“Ahhhhh! Monster! Monster!”
“Grrrrrrrrr…I’m going to tickle you to death! Tickle-tickle-tickle!”
I run after the batch of giggling imps, wiggling my fingers like worms. It seems that there is no shortage of laughter for children; they’ve got giggles in storage, piled up high in their sweet hearts—and they freely give them away. I guess that’s why I keep volunteering—even when I’m shaken up from a bad migraine or when I’m swamped with tests and projects during midterms: to see the kindergarteners’ sunny smiles.
I remember my first day at the kindergarten very clearly. That day, I was standing awkwardly at the corner of the classroom after getting introduced to the preschoolers by the homeroom teacher. I was feeling very uncomfortable, and starting to regret my decision to volunteer here. Just then, one of the boys—I later found out that his name is Jay—came to me and asked, “Teacher, why are you wearing cobwebs?” At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about. However, when the boy pointed at my legs, I realized that he was referring to my nylon stockings. My tension melted away. I giggled, nuzzled the boy’s head, and explained to him the difference between cobwebs and nylon stockings as seriously as possible; I fell in love with the children then and there.
It’s not like they are angels. In fact, they are quite the opposite. Pushing, pulling, and crying happens regularly, and I’ve mastered the art of nose-wiping consequently. During class, the little devils squirm like puppies, poking each other with pencil ends and running around without slippers on until I give them a stern “no-no” finger-wag/head-shake combination several times. I’ve also become a pro in wrestling, and can handle three kids at one time! What’s more, their endless streams of “Why not?”, “how come?”, and “What if?” are often overwhelming, and their wild imagination frequently makes things go overboard. However, these pint-sized devils often make my day.
When I come back to my desk, I find Belle, a chubby seven-year old, patiently waiting for me with crayons and paper. She wants me to draw a princess for her.
“Teacher, d’ you know what?” Belle whispers, playing with my hair, while I diligently work.
“Hmm?” I answer distantly, distracted.
“I love you.”
My heart becomes all fuzzy, and I let go of my crayons to give Belle a giant hug. I tell her: “As do I, as do I.”
Horrifying today, hilarious tomorrow, and lovable the day after, the children bring a bucketful of laughter into my life daily, and I respond by pouring a bucketful of love into their lives. I love my kids so much.