The literacy lesson, the bloody nose, and the unclaimed peach.

Location: Grade 1 classroom.
Date: Fall, 2008
Players: 20 children, 1 teacher, a peach.

The class was minding its own business. School had been in session for about one hour, and they were participating in a literacy lesson, nothing that was going to change the world, but something that would help the children become better readers.

All of the sudden, a student calls out.

Boy: "Teacher! Teacher!"

Teacher: "Hector, if you want to say something please raise your hand." The teacher reminds the students often, since it is the first week of school.

Boy: "No! Teacher, she's bleeding." He points to the girl seated beside him who does indeed have a bloody nose. Nothing too extreme, maybe she had picked it a few too many times, and the skin on the inside gave out a little bit.

The teacher walks over to get a nurse pass and fills it out with the student's name.

Boy: "And teacher, there's a peach on the ground."

The teacher looks up. She looks over. A peach on the ground? Why yes indeed, there is a peach on the ground. The question now is, what is it doing there, and to whom does it belong?

Unperturbed, the teacher finishes filling out the pass and hands it to the girl, telling her to go to the nurse. The child, however, is still feeling the first week jitters and doesn’t want to go to the nurse. The teacher suggests she have a buddy walk her there, the girl reluctantly agrees and the two of them head off to the nurse.

Now the teacher goes back to the important matter at hand. Where did the peach come from, and how has no one noticed it for the first hour of school? The teacher picks up the peach and examines it – it is still in perfect condition and looks delicious. She raises it into the air and looks out at the children.

Teacher: “Whose peach is this?”

The children stare back with confused looks on their faces.

Teacher: “Is anyone missing a peach? Did anyone bring a peach for lunch or breakfast?” In fact, none of the children actually bring their own lunches to school, so that was a silly question.

The teacher continues: “Really? This isn’t anyone’s peach?”

The children continue to stare. The teacher puts down the peach and returns to phonemes or vowels or whatever subject she had been dealing with before the excitement began.

Another hour passes and it is time for lunch. The teach looks over at her desk and sees the peach still sitting there. She picks it up again and examines it for a clue as to its origin. “Team!” she tries again. “Who is missing a peach?”

As before, no one responds. The teacher laughs. The children laugh. The teacher laughs. The children stare in bewilderment.

At the end of the day the teacher watches the children leave and closes the door to her classroom, tired but mostly satisfied with the day’s proceedings. She glances over at her desk. Still there, sitting among papers, pencils, and the teacher’s mostly uneaten lunch is the peach. The mystery peach. The peach who wanted to become a first grade student. The peach who wanted to join the Team.