Why I Teach

He looked me straight in the eye and said, “I don’t need to learn. I’m only six.” He pulled the blankets over his head. “False,” I cried. “Can I show you some tricks?” Slowly, the blanket crept to his nose. His blue eyes peeked out over the top. “What are you going to do with those?” He asked of the books, my only prop. I smiled and quickly turned to page one. I read; the blanket was tossed away And before long, the story was done. He asked for some more with no delay. I laughed and said my voice was tired. Frowning, he peered down at his bare toes. I told him if he so desired, He could hear my secret no one knows. His blue eyes lit up with great surprise. I pulled out my old favorite book. I promised he could read if he tries. That boy gave me a long steady look. But he removed the book from my hands And pointed to the first word he saw. I read him “cat” so he understands. Repeating, he pointed to its paw. “Yes! That’s perfect!” I exclaimed in joy. He grinned and pointed to a new word. Happy reading was now his new toy, All days were spent, only his voice heard.