Lincoln is DEAD! I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you, but he is.
So, it was the first day of a new session of classes at Creative Works for Children, and one of my three-year-old students whom I hadn’t met until just that day (and who had not yet spoken to me) came up to me, looked up at me in horror, and said,
“Lincoln is DEAD!” (dramatic pause)
“He was one of our residents! (dramatic pause)
“They shot him right in the brains!”
Shocking news, indeed. The other children watched my face carefully, waiting for my response. Should they be concerned about this apparently recent and tragic development? How would this affect them?
“Oh yes,” I replied. “President Lincoln lived a long time ago, and it is very sad that he died,” I responded, dodging the topic of murder.
I spoke to his mother at the end of class; she gasped and held her hand to her mouth.
“I know,” she said. “We went on a tour in Washington D.C., and his older brother was talking about it the whole way home. I didn't think that he was listening so closely. I’m afraid that he got a bit too much information.”
Ah, the educational vacation…an oxymoron in the minds of some, and an adventure for others. I don’t think that I was ever traumatized on any such outing, unless you count spending hours watching Holly Hobby-ish ladies dipping candles and mending lace on a lovely summer day that would’ve been perfect for swimming.