Although it has been over twenty years since I retired from my job of teaching school, I still feel nostalgic when it is time for school to begin. I guess the saying “once a teacher always a teacher” applies.

I have used my skill of teaching off and on during those years, but nothing formal. For about ten years I enjoyed being associated with Vacation Bible School at our church. First, I taught the nursery class, then I went on to become the director. My grandchildren were young enough to participate so it was fun. The youngest one wanted to be able to attend in the worst way. When his mother volunteered to help me with the painting of the t-shirts, I took him to class with me. I think he figured if he did not behave, he would not be allowed to attend so he was very good.

I also taught Sunday school off and on. I even did the children’s sermon sometimes.

When my granddaughter was in kindergarten, I volunteered to help the teacher with the computer. She told me it was a blessing because I could tell her things about the children that she would not have known otherwise.

I must admit in the years that Don was in my life I thought little about school. I was busy getting him off to golf or we were on our way somewhere. We bowled together so that was fun. The secret was that I was busy.

Now, I am on my own again so thoughts of the classroom have surfaced. Just maybe because I am being called upon to do the children’s sermon in a couple weeks it has triggered these memories.

I always went to school about a week before it was to start. No, I did not get paid to do this, but it was just what I did. Having an attractive classroom was important. I had bulletin boards to prepare. I had name tags to make. I had my plan book to fill.

While I taught kindergarten, the last nine years of my teaching career, I wrote letters to my new students and mailed them to them. Kindergarten was a tricky grade to teach since for at least some of the children it was their first experience with formal education. While some had attended preschool, others did not. I usually enclosed a picture to color with instructions to bring it to school on the first day.

When they arrived, I collected the colored pictures and put them up on the bulletin board that I had prepared. The children could see their work right away.

I have been reminded of a project that I used in my classroom. A grandmother told me that her granddaughter always wanted her to do that when she visited. I put a “line” on a paper then asked the children to make it into a picture and write me a story about it. I called it “creative design”.

I started using that technique when I was substituting. It bought me time to look over the teacher’s plans or make plans if needed. The children loved it and I knew they were still learning something. We took time to share some of them later in the day.

I tracked which “line” I used in which class since I often returned to some classes. When I had my own classroom, it was easier. I did, however, have two boys who no matter what the line was, turned it into a tractor! They both lived on dairy farms.

I loved my job. I loved being part of the educational team. I retired, not because of discontent, but because of the illness of my husband. I was so glad that I spent that time with him. When he died, people asked me if I was going back to the classroom. I told them I was not. I retired and was happy about that.

School has just started and I am not there. I certainly was not unhappy to have missed the spell with COVID. That must have been a very difficult time for the teachers and for the students as well.

Internet connections in rural areas are not what they are in the city. There were many difficulties to be overcome. My own connection goes out frequently. I can only imagine how hard some families had it with mom and dad working from home as well.

I also did not have to worry about school shootings. They were not happening during my time in the classroom. I did have a red folder with letters of who children were allowed to go home with. That was becoming an issue.

Oh, give me the good old days when things were simple!

Ann Swanson writes from her home in Russell, Pa. Contact at hickoryheights1@verizon.net.