Being a teacher, not an easy task. In it, demanded dedication, and also persistence. There should also atience, and compassion in conveying lesson. Because, in fact, teachers not only educate, but also teaches. Only certain people are able to run it.
Being a teacher is not something easy. Moreover, a teacher for children who have the "privilege". And I feel so lucky to be their teacher, although only in a few hours. There is a pleasure separate, are in the middle of children with Cerebral Palsy background (back of brain disorder syndrome).
One time, I was asked to assist a teacher in a classroom for persons with disabilities. The class, called the preparatory class, an classes that are in the initial stage in YPAC Jakarta. Typically, children there were between 9-12 years, but their ability is equivalent to child aged 4-5 years, or class 0 small.
At present there, the classes appeared to be crowded. They apparently were playing flat shape and color. There shouted a hoarse-shouting odd, and tugs a constant head of them. There is also a stiff hands, which were arrange the pieces of the diagram. Here and there scattered wood and plastic toys.
Boisterous. Special benches crackling, rub in a wheelchair part children who collided with the floor.
I felt awkward with all that. However, that feeling is gone, while viewing a teacher who looked so diligently to accompany the children there. "Let's go, sit here near the Si Abang, you know he's more clever to make the letters, "so called to me. I walked, past the children who are still busy with the task
them. Ah come on, the brother, 11-year-old child who suffered cerebral Palsy with enlarged heads, were smiling to me. Her body bouncing, hand calling out as if to show off with cleverness arrange the letters.
Subhanallah, he bounced back Abang. I was shocked. I smiled. He chuckling laugh. Soon, we began to familiar. He was not embarrassed again assisted set of numbers and letters. Stacking-stacking-paste-paste, so that we do. Ah, I began to enjoy this job. He was now looking clings in hand me. Without the feel, I stroked his head and held it to his chest. Feel peaceful and warm.
Meanwhile in another corner, his mother a teacher to be patient once accompany all children there. He led the children hands to pursue the image structures. learning each finger with diligence, while occasionally invite them smile. His hands never stopped stroking soft fingertips is weak. However, no one had ever complained, and angry that I heard.
Time runs so fast. And now, time to go home. After clean up some games, the children were getting on the bench respectively. Aduuh, peace once saw the children were ready with position.
Hands folded on the table, and gaze towards the front of the plain, I believe, make everyone smile. The teacher began leading the prayer, directing each child to set eyes and say your hope in God.
Peace. Peace was a spy who shut it. Shade. Calm view their eyes are all closed. Four hours had me with "the angels" small. Exhausted and tired I felt, seemed insignificant compared to with inner experiences that I experienced. Now, they move, the march toward the exit. Appear one by one wheelchair moving in my direction. owww, what's this
Again and again I was touched. Arriving in front of me, they all fell silent, signaled to kiss his hand. Yes, they kissed my hand, while said, "Good afternoon Mr. Teacher .." Ah, a sincere word that makes me soared. the teacher ... the teacher, once said they one by one. Wheelchair they rattled every time they pedaled toward me. Crackle-crackle it again makes me thrilled, imagining their efforts to just kissed my hand.
The last child had kissed my hand. Now, my gaze moves to side, toward the back of the children who walk to the exit. In silence I say, ".. the kids goodbye, goodbye angels My little ... "I let the tears that trickled in between the petals. I let the grains fall, to describe my feelings of emotion and pride. Proud to their struggle, and also touched on the spirit they had.
Being a teacher is not something easy. Moreover, a teacher for children who have the "privilege". And I feel so lucky to be their teacher, although only in a few hours. There is a pleasure separate, are in the middle of children with Cerebral Palsy background (back of brain disorder syndrome).
One time, I was asked to assist a teacher in a classroom for persons with disabilities. The class, called the preparatory class, an classes that are in the initial stage in YPAC Jakarta. Typically, children there were between 9-12 years, but their ability is equivalent to child aged 4-5 years, or class 0 small.
At present there, the classes appeared to be crowded. They apparently were playing flat shape and color. There shouted a hoarse-shouting odd, and tugs a constant head of them. There is also a stiff hands, which were arrange the pieces of the diagram. Here and there scattered wood and plastic toys.
Boisterous. Special benches crackling, rub in a wheelchair part children who collided with the floor.
I felt awkward with all that. However, that feeling is gone, while viewing a teacher who looked so diligently to accompany the children there. "Let's go, sit here near the Si Abang, you know he's more clever to make the letters, "so called to me. I walked, past the children who are still busy with the task
them. Ah come on, the brother, 11-year-old child who suffered cerebral Palsy with enlarged heads, were smiling to me. Her body bouncing, hand calling out as if to show off with cleverness arrange the letters.
Subhanallah, he bounced back Abang. I was shocked. I smiled. He chuckling laugh. Soon, we began to familiar. He was not embarrassed again assisted set of numbers and letters. Stacking-stacking-paste-paste, so that we do. Ah, I began to enjoy this job. He was now looking clings in hand me. Without the feel, I stroked his head and held it to his chest. Feel peaceful and warm.
Meanwhile in another corner, his mother a teacher to be patient once accompany all children there. He led the children hands to pursue the image structures. learning each finger with diligence, while occasionally invite them smile. His hands never stopped stroking soft fingertips is weak. However, no one had ever complained, and angry that I heard.
Time runs so fast. And now, time to go home. After clean up some games, the children were getting on the bench respectively. Aduuh, peace once saw the children were ready with position.
Hands folded on the table, and gaze towards the front of the plain, I believe, make everyone smile. The teacher began leading the prayer, directing each child to set eyes and say your hope in God.
Peace. Peace was a spy who shut it. Shade. Calm view their eyes are all closed. Four hours had me with "the angels" small. Exhausted and tired I felt, seemed insignificant compared to with inner experiences that I experienced. Now, they move, the march toward the exit. Appear one by one wheelchair moving in my direction. owww, what's this
Again and again I was touched. Arriving in front of me, they all fell silent, signaled to kiss his hand. Yes, they kissed my hand, while said, "Good afternoon Mr. Teacher .." Ah, a sincere word that makes me soared. the teacher ... the teacher, once said they one by one. Wheelchair they rattled every time they pedaled toward me. Crackle-crackle it again makes me thrilled, imagining their efforts to just kissed my hand.
The last child had kissed my hand. Now, my gaze moves to side, toward the back of the children who walk to the exit. In silence I say, ".. the kids goodbye, goodbye angels My little ... "I let the tears that trickled in between the petals. I let the grains fall, to describe my feelings of emotion and pride. Proud to their struggle, and also touched on the spirit they had.
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