Kaliedoscope

Last week I brought a kaleidoscope into the kindergarten class my daughter, Jennifer, teaches. I thought maybe the kids would be as fascinated by kaleidoscopes as I am.

Outfitted with internal mirrors and small, colorful shapes, kaleidoscopes turn out an endless variety of beautiful and interesting patterns as the individual objects meet with each twist of the cylinder. All you have to do is look for them.

It has occurred to me that if a kaleidoscope contained letters instead of geometric shapes words, could be created with a turn of the wrist. I was invited into the classroom as the “mystery” reader for the day. Jennifer supplied the books, but I brought along a kaleidoscope for an object lesson. These 5-year-olds were learning how to read and I wanted to help.

I held up the kaleidoscope and explained a little bit how it worked. I showed them how they could change the picture by rotating the tube. I went on to tell them that even though I liked kaleidoscopes, I liked letters better. I told the kids how the letters in one word could be rearranged, like in a kaleidoscope, to form other words.

On the whiteboard (blackboards have fallen out of favor) I wrote “READ.” Then I erased the “A” to produce “RED.” Then I added the “A” back in and erased the other letters. Then I wrote “READ” again and showed them how by mixing up the same four letters we could produce the word “DEAR,” a word I hoped they heard used affectionately in their homes. I left out DARE, ERA and AD as I was losing their interest.

I’m not sure if the kids grasped what I was trying to do or if it was even age appropriate. Perhaps it was just an excuse for me to give the kids a toy. It’s certainly not the way I was taught to read.

My mother, who had been a first-grade teacher, taught me to read at home by reading to me, and then the Nuns at the Catholic school I attended continued the instruction. Reading and fighting were two subjects that were a big part of my day there. Sister Roselia and Sister Cyril used phonics to teach reading in the classroom; Mike and his brother Pat conducted lessons in fighting during recess.

Mike and Pat were impossible to defeat. They were bigger, stronger and better fighters than me. But just like the nuns, they were patient teachers and eventually I learned my lesson: avoid them. After several years I left the Catholic school and had very little contact with either one of them.

About 15 years ago my wife and I decided to sell a horse that was dear to us. Mike had read the ad in the paper and came out to the farm. I recognized him immediately, but this was a different era so instead of seeing red I calmly introduced myself.

Life’s kaleidoscope had spun enough times to bring Mike and I back together. We had tumbled through life and now found ourselves face-to-face again. He was still bigger and stronger than me, but I was no longer the scared little boy. The past had passed and we could not turn back the clock. Even though I did not dare speak of specifics, I assured him that all past injuries and injustices are forgiven.

Mike had my horse do things I didn’t know she was capable of. He took a length of rope, and with him standing in the middle the horse began to trot, canter and gallop around a circle with only his voice commanding her. Mike then took the rope and with a couple twists of his hands turned it into a bridle. He hopped on the horse bareback and galloped around the barnyard. That day it became his horse.

I haven’t talked to Mike sense then, but the calendar, like the kaleidoscope, keeps turning up interesting combinations. All you have to do is look for them.