SMILE at someone,
it is an action of LOVE,
a GIFT to that person,
a BEAUTIFUL thing.
~Mother Teresa
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive.
But the Skin Horse only smiled.
After Ruth spoke to her students, she joined them as a classmate as they received their diplomas:I'm writing a learning program that incorporates my teaching, brain-based learning experience, and other skills. I have a section giving permission to be average and get a "C." Some high achievers need that. Some low achievers need to know they don't have to be perfect in everything. Some parents need to know that, too.
When you can’t stand the subject or your teacher
Let’s face it. Sometimes you’re going to get a class that’s a dud. Maybe it’s the subject matter. Perhaps it’s the teacher. Or maybe it’s both. I won’t say which college, but the subject was economics. I am still baffled as to why I was required to take that class. And the teacher was horrible. He shuffled into class wearing leather bedroom slippers and polyester leisure suits from the 70’s, reeking of cigarette smoke. He also spat when he talked and I was stuck in the front row. Beyond the poor fashion sense, he was hostile to students and picked a few to yell at. You know those teachers who want you to succeed and do well? He was not one of them. I kept my mouth shut and did the bare minimum to get through. I have successfully failed to remember any content from that class. However, I am a firm believer that there are lessons everywhere, if you’re open to finding them. Often, it’s not the content of the class, but the presentation of it. In the case of this particular class, this is what I learned:
Sometimes you just have to survive.
That’s it. Put in the required time and effort, and when it’s done, it’s done. Kind of like eating a food you didn’t like when you were a kid. Hold your nose, chew & swallow.