“Everything I need to know I learned in kindergarten.” That’s what they say. For me, it’s pretty true. My kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Miller, looked like Alice in Wonderland to me and was loving and joyful in every circumstance.
I remember the ”print shop” center where we could make signs and notes with letter stamps. She most impacted me, though, when I tried to steal the homemade play dough from the kitchen center. She gave me a chance to confess, but I didn’t take it. When she asked me why I had a ball of play dough sticking out of the pocket of my dress, I told her it was just so warm and squishy I wanted to keep it with me. All my play dough at home was hard and dry. She talked with my mom about it. What stays with me, though, is that she wasn’t angry, she used it as a teaching time. Instead of discipline, she gave me the recipe. We still make Mrs. Miller’s play dough.