Friday, April 19, 2024

Give Extra: Reap Much

 

Give Extra; Reap Much


Bus dismissal time in elementary school is frenetic. Students are packing backpacks and socializing while listening for their buses to be called. After most of the wriggling throng departed, a few kids waited for the late buses. Usually, those left behind in my second-grade class, yearning for after-school freedom, bounced off the walls. But one year, I was left with five little sweeties who gathered on the carpet to chat.

After some conversation, they decided. “We should make a club!”


Breaching the invisibility shield I had posted around my desk, they trooped over. “We want to make a club. What can we do while we wait for the bus?” 


Looking past their eager faces, I took in the chaos left behind by busy seven-year-olds. Paper and pencils littered the floor. Desks, once soldier-straight, zigzagged haphazardly across the room. Computer mice, like Petrie dishes, harbored legions of germs. Bookcases spilled out books and shelves dropped learning tools and games onto the floor.


“Well, ”I said, “Wouldn’t it be nice to straighten up the room to make it easier for Mr. J to clean?” Mr. J was our custodian. Every morning we started the day in an organized classroom and every afternoon, we left chaos for him to clean up.


“A cleaning club!” Their eyes lit up! Grabbing paper, they scurried back to the carpet to make a list of jobs. In minutes, they had delegated responsibilities and named their club — The Cleaning Crew. The club swept the floor, sharpened pencils, straightened desks, dusted chalk trays, organized shelves, and wielded disinfectant wipes to de-germ surfaces. In the five or ten minutes before their bus arrived, The Cleaning Crew cleared away and organized, brightening the classroom with their exuberance and their cleaning. Our classroom sparkled.


Custodians are nighttime angels, so I didn’t catch up with Mr. J until a few months later. The Cleaning Crew had left a thank-you note on the board for him (happy faces and hearts included). He wanted to thank them. He left a response on the board (happy faces but no hearts). What joy when the crew arrived in the morning! Before long, the club roster swelled as others joined. 


In a few minutes and with a little effort, the Cleaning Crew had brightened so much — our classroom, my faith in the sweetness of children, and Mr. J’s evening chores. So often, we resist giving extra effort to make someone’s life happier or easier. The extra tip we don’t leave, the compliment we don’t give, the pat on the back we withhold. It takes so little effort to make someone’s life brighter. Waving a car into traffic in front of us, picking up litter from our neighbor’s yard, or sending a note to a hurting friend take only a moment but can mean so much.


The Cleaning Crew could have invented any club but they chose to show someone they rarely saw that his work was appreciated. Their lesson was one of the most important ever taught in my classroom. Give extra; reap much. I wonder whose lives those five little sweeties are brightening today. Their light never left me, nor their example. Give extra; reap much.