My first teaching experience involved helping Mrs. Lambert with her four-year-old Sunday School class. Mrs. Lambert was a master teacher. Four-year-olds exude passion without apology and she had a gentle strength that would comfort without compromise. They laugh, they cry, they sing, they dance, they play, shifting from one to the next as swiftly as the turned pages of waiting room magazines.
There was a time when the classroom supply of Play-doh began to decrease. Then, we realized that Johnny (name changed) was eating it. And one Sunday morning it was gone. Johnny had eaten every can of play-doh in the room. He was, however, not finished. From the corner of my eye, during a song, I noticed Johnny had his face to the floor. He had discovered a patch of dried doh and was gnawing it from the carpet. Johnny's doh pica was undaunted by the empty cans.
I wonder, what appetites take me to the carpet?