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It’s time for show and tell

Before the final pencil is sharpened and the last eraser drops, I wish to take you inside a school classroom for my play-by-play glimpse of that wel- known, but seldom-witnessed time of day called, “Show and Tell.” Hang onto your hat.
Prairie Wool Helen Row Toews

Before the final pencil is sharpened and the last eraser drops, I wish to take you inside a school classroom for my play-by-play glimpse of that wel- known, but seldom-witnessed time of day called, “Show and Tell.” Hang onto your hat.

“It’s time,” announces teacher and Johnny sidles to the front of the room grasping a plastic grocery bag. His eyes shift furtively from his classmates, to the inner sanctum of his sack as he prepares an accurate description of its contents for the multitude. (This audience must correctly identify the hidden item.)

“It’s white and it has teeth,” Johnny says, checking the sack once more for accuracy sake. No other clues are given. Hands shoot up all over the room.

“Is it a dinosaur?” “A dog?” “No, it’s a rabbit,” yells a tiny girl, leaping from her chair with glee. “Can I hold it?”

“Nope,” Johnny says with quiet triumph. He rustles in the bag, preparing for his big finish. “You’re all wrong.”

In a perfect parody of the finest circus showman, he draws forth the prized possession with a grand flourish, and lifts it far above his head.

“It’s the jawbone of a dead coyote!” he shouts. (Several decayed teeth clatter to the floor.)

A hush falls upon the crowd. With great ceremony Johnny then paces past the desks of his classmates, treating them to a glimpse of this rare find, (also scrambling under desks after further mouldering molars that tumble to earth).

Marcia steps forward, clutching her backpack. Teacher holds up a hand. “Wait till Johnny is through showing us his dead coyote teeth, dear,” she says. Her eyes swivel to meet mine, and she whispers hoarsely, “What did I just say?”

Marcia begins. “It’s purple and hard,” she says softly. This time it’s something small enough to fit in her clenched fist and she peeps at it through her fingers to ensure her description is precise.

“Is it a spaceship?” “A turtle?” “An old grape,” hollers the last to guess. I marvel at their imaginations.

She opens her tiny hand for all to see and be amazed. “No! It’s a rock wrapped in a shoelace! I found it on the road.” Dutifully, even though it holds little of the dead animal’s charm, each child inspects it carefully.

We move on to Sam. Sam smiles smugly to himself as he shuffles into place backwards, both hands gripping his backpack tightly. Suddenly he whirls about on one foot and rams his entire head inside the voluminous pack. One can only assume this head-in-the-bag move is calculated to ensure precision of detail.

“Shufnighuffle tuff,” he says. Further incoherent mumbling issues from the interior of the sack.

“Sammy,’ the teacher says patiently, “we can’t hear you.” His head reappears. Old cookie crumbs trickle from his hair and topple lightly to the floor.

“It’s green and it has a light,” he cries. Then, even as his friends raise their hands to guess, he yells, “It’s a watch!” The bag falls, disregarded to the floor as he capers about with the timepiece held on high. Robbed of her guess, a friend asks a reasonable question.

“What’s it good for?”

Sammy pauses, considering this weighty matter. “I use the light under the blankets at night ‘cause I’m scared of the dark,” he answers with refreshing candour.

The end.

And there you have it. An exceptional classroom moment brought direct to you by a woman who loves watching, “Show and Tell.” You’re welcome.

To contact Helen or order her books visit myprairiewool.com or write Box 55 Marshall, Sask. S0M 1R0.