Learning to Paint in the Blank Spots

Lessons gleaned from preschoolers learning to paint

“This is Ben,” said the teacher. “He is learning to paint in the blank spots on the page.”

I looked at the paint-smocked preschooler, who stood in front of the easel holding a color-laden brush. In the center of his paper was a cloud of at least half a dozen colors layered thickly atop each other. As she spoke, the teacher pointed to a blank area underneath the cloud. “Do you think this spot could use some color?” she asked him.

Ben nodded, and dabbed his brush against the page.

Some days I just need a preschool perspective

One fun perk of my church job is interacting with the preschool classes that share our building. I usually find an excuse to stop by the classroom to hear about the day’s lessons and projects. Whether it’s Pajama Day or a green-eggs-and-ham celebration of Dr. Seuss, the preschoolers embrace their activities with excitement and bright curiosity.

Sometimes I visit in the hopes their energy will transfer to me. Honestly, how do those little bodies remain in constant motion without benefit of coffee?

Other times I need a reminder of the innocence and wonder to be had from the preschool perspective. They are equally fascinated by nature and technology. Be it the butterflies they grew from caterpillars or the huge magnet lifting old cars into “the crusher” they saw at the junkyard, life is endlessly interesting when you’re four.

The Officer fails to impress, but is a captive audience anyway

Occasionally the preschoolers visit me. A contingent of little people troop past my door, privileged to escort their teacher to use the copier or check the mailbox. I always poke my head out to be introduced so they can practice meeting new adults.

“Friends, this is Mrs. Giles,” says the teacher with a wink. “She is one of our Officers, because she works in the office.” It’s a long-standing joke from my son’s preschool days. My illustrious title fails to impress, but the kids are delighted to have a fresh audience for their chatter.

One shows me his new rubber rain boots, and demonstrates how he stomped through puddles on the way to school. Another is Child of The Day, and tells me what snack Mommy brought for the class. A third wants to know if the candy in the jar on my desk is for everyone or just me (because “sharing is how you show you are a friend”).

Today’s Letter of the Day is W. “What words start with W?” I ask. Watermelon. Wheels. Wally and William (the dog and little brother, respectively). And the final contribution from Mr. Rubber Boots, who hops up and down and points out the window at the overcast day. “Wain!”

I love talking to four year olds. I learn so much.

Like the lesson from Ben, who is learning to paint in the blank spots. He doesn’t recognize the bravery in the act, but I do. It takes courage to start a new endeavor, invade a new space, leave the comfortable and familiar. To try out fresh ideas. Or put a different color on your paintbrush.