My classroom is my garden,
And my students are the seeds.
In late summer I open envelopes,
And shake out all their needs.
All fall I labor long
To tend each needful row
And nurture every tender shoot
With all the love I can bestow.
In winter, under icy blasts,
It's hard to see beneath the snow
And still ensure my efforts
Are helping flowers grow.
Yet each spring I see my garden
As tiny flowers begin to show,
And I know that lives are richer
Because of the love I sow.
Copyright © 2006 Ivan Kershner, reprinted with permission.
[content block]Article by Ivan Kershner
Education World®
Copyright © 2006 Education World
08/18/2006
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