Don't Fall in the Spring

Last week, my first graders studied consonant blends
and this week, the "-ing" ending was reintroduced.
Tuesday we put them both together
to make the word "spring."
I passed out long coiled plastic springs,
an anything-you-can-fit-in-a-basket Ollie's find,
and we cut them up
and used them for hair
on our construction paper veterans,
gym decorations for next week's Veterans' Day assembly.
Vets, we thank you for your service.

We then donned our coats
and tripped outside to find another kind of spring,
where water comes out of the side hill.
It is about ten feet into the woods.
I had glimpsed it
earlier in the fall
when trampling down a path
for kids to explode touch-me-not seed pods,
the bubble wrap of earlier generations.
I led my class toward the spring along the dry side hill.
We climbed over a log
and under a deadfall
to reach the weepy site.
"This is a spring.
Water comes right out of the ground here."
I then extended a hand to each child
to make sure they didn't slide into the spring
as they passed over it.
The kids were reforming the line behind me
when I heard "Whoa!"
" Look!"
" Cool!"
There was a second spring,
rimmed in giant, moss-covered cut stones,
built perhaps a century ago
when settlers used springs for refrigeration.
We were all so excited.
We had discovered Penfield's version of Machu Picchu.

Wednesday at recess
I told the kids that I would be going into the woods
to take a picture of the spring
but that I would still be able to watch them play.
I put on my kneehigh rubber boots,
took a shortcut through the mowed wet area
and entered the woods with my iPad.
Click.
Nice picture.

 

I turned to watch the kids at play,
then started back across the wetness.
Slurp.
One boot went calf-deep.
Hmmmm.
I tugged.
I wobbled.
I stepped on my coat.
The next step sunk the other boot to within an inch of the top.
Stuck.
I considered abandoning the boots
and walking out in my stocking feet
but then I remembered high school physics
and mass
and surface area
and figured I may end up even more stuck.
And even muddier.
I decided to call the office for help.
I reached for the walkie talkie on my whistle lanyard.
Hmmmm.
In remembering the iPad,
I had forgotten the walkie talkie.

I called to M,
the star student of the day,
and asked her go to the office
and tell them
to ask the custodian
to pull me out.
She was off like a shot.

Over dashed J and T,
two curious little boys.
"Hey Teacher! Are you stuck?"
"Yes.
It's very muddy.
Don't get close.
Back up."
Three more boys raced over.
I used my teacher look
and teacher voice:
"I SAID BACK UP!"

Meanwhile,
as soon as M entered the building
she saw the custodian.
"Mr. Doug!
Mrs. Shaffner is stuck in the mud!
You need to come!"
Doug smiled his teasing smile
and started for the door, saying
"Tell her I'll be there in forty-five minutes."
M's eyes got huge
and her voice,
bless her heart,
got a bit bossy.
"Mr. Doug!
You need to come RIGHT NOW!"
 
One long tug and one boot slurped out.
The second was more stubborn.
In the end,
I was bear hugged
and carried from the mudhole.
Mr. Doug's sneakers were no longer white.
He and M
are now sharing hero status
at Penfield Elementary.

Every day has adventures
and opportunities to be thankful
and maybe even heroic.

Today if it doesn't rain we are going for another walk.