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| Or something similar... |
Teaching school has never been easy.
Even in the heavy-handed discipline days of 1903 . .
.
Eighteen-year-old Sarah hadn’t really considered
teaching.
When she was approached by a family, her response
was: “Well, I really can’t teach. I’ve only passed the eighth grade. I couldn’t
teach unless they gave me a permit.”
A week later, she was facing the fourteen students of
Aldrich, Utah.
Some of whom were taller than she.
The woman with whom she boarded told Sarah that the
children had run the last teacher out.
Somewhat alarmed, Sarah made some inquiries.
She discovered that the students had flipped rocks at the woman. Constantly. Nothing she could do seemed to help.
They had brazenly
done the same to the Superintendent when he came to investigate.
It had finally
gotten so bad the teacher quit.
Sarah quietly determined that wouldn’t happen to her.
She called the class to order and assigned seating.
Then she told them to get on with their lessons while she put some work on the
board.
When she turned her back, two rocks flipped.
She stopped and ordered all of the children up to the
front, boys and girls, and made them turn their pockets inside out.
Most had said pockets filled with little stones.
Sarah confiscated all
the rocks and had peace until recess.
After recess, she again
lined everyone up and turned out their pockets. Again, many of them had been
filled with little stones.
After lunch, she did
the same.
And the afternoon recess.
This went on for
several days.
Finally, the children
tired of the exercise and she had no more trouble.
Sarah might have been
tiny.
And only possessed a grade
eight education.
But she had the right
skill for the job.
Grit.
Beats rocks every time.
