The Student Teacher
As a storyteller, I entertain you with a new story. Here is one more:
When I was a college student, I fancied teaching my classmates. A few of them would gather and ask me to explain a poem which they said they could not get in the classroom. On a sunny winter morning, we pulled out chairs in a corner of the college park and sat down. It was a free period, so I started to put ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ in plain words at their request.
“Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!”
“Keats looks at the picture carved on the urn in which a young man under a tree sings a song and another is trying to kiss his beloved....” I went on.
In the meantime, a few young women from science faculty secretly came up right behind my chair and stood listening to me. I noticed that my friends had turned their attention but I was too engrossed to become aware of anything else. Suddenly one of the girls said in a soft and gorgeous voice, “How lovely, dear young teacher! How I love the way you tea....” I turned back to look at her and embarrassed walked away. However, I have failed to forget her – often I remember thinking how appealing, how lovely she looked.
“Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!”
“Keats looks at the picture carved on the urn in which a young man under a tree sings a song and another is trying to kiss his beloved....” I went on.
In the meantime, a few young women from science faculty secretly came up right behind my chair and stood listening to me. I noticed that my friends had turned their attention but I was too engrossed to become aware of anything else. Suddenly one of the girls said in a soft and gorgeous voice, “How lovely, dear young teacher! How I love the way you tea....” I turned back to look at her and embarrassed walked away. However, I have failed to forget her – often I remember thinking how appealing, how lovely she looked.
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