Peanuts and such ...

I’m learning there are all kinds of three-year-olds in this world. I’ve been volunteering at church on Sunday mornings, Tuesday mornings, and every other Thursday morning for almost a year now. This is not the same group of three’s, but almost three completely separate groups, with very little overlapping … lots of different little faces, personalities, family dynamics, etc.

Yesterday, we had 11 three-year-olds in our class and four adult workers! An unusual and nice ratio for a change ~ usually we have more children and less workers. One little guy in our Thursday group is kind of “out there” ~ it’s hard to define exactly what I mean … Adam just doesn’t fit into any mold whatsoever. Whatever it is the group is supposed to be doing at any given time, most assuredly he isn’t. It’s not that he is a problem really. He isn’t loudly misbehaving or anything, and he doesn’t appear unhappy. It's like his body is in the room but his head isn't!

I’ve been praying that I can make a difference as I work with these little kiddos, and make a connection somehow. During our craft time yesterday, Adam was at my table with another boy and two girls. The craft was ridiculously complicated, requiring no less than 15 small foam pieces (not the nice ones with the sticky backs, but ones requiring a glue stick) that had to be assembled in a particular order, etc. with the result of making a cute little picture frame the kids could take home to their parents. The teacher was giving very careful, slow instructions, one foam piece at a time, so that we could help the children end up with a picture frame as opposed to a sticky, icky something else!

After the first four steps of this crazy craft, I was about on my last nerve with Adam. I'm sure you've heard the saying:“The light is on, but nobody’s home.” Well, I have NEVER even seen anything close to a light go on with Adam. His 15 foam pieces were everywhere they weren't supposed to be, glue was everywhere, and he was completely somewhere else, hardly trying it seemed, and so in my frustration I made a funny face and said in a silly voice: “You are being a goober, Adam.” And this little boy, who hardly seems to recognize when someone is speaking to him, for the first time, looked at me square in the eye with an actual gleam in his, chuckled and said, “Did you say goober?” I had never seen him light up like that! “Goober” he said, and he laughed again, very pleased with this word. I, of course, didn’t tell him that I meant him no compliment. We continued the craft until all four children at my table had what kind of resembled a picture frame, and all throughout, Adam was engaged with me! It was a delightful experience! We even had a small conversation. I was counting the children and announced that we had 11 children in our class today. Adam shook his head from side to side and then said, “We have 10 children and one goober!” and pointed at himself with a pleased face! It cracked me up that he said this! You just never know what will tickle a kid, do you?

P.S. By definition, “goober” means peanut, so it’s not like I called him a bad name or anything.