The hands of a grateful heart thanksgiving
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The hands of a grateful heart thanksgiving
Thanksgiving Day was near. warning labelsThe first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment—to draw a picture of something for which theySOLENOID VALVE were thankful.
Most of the class might be considered fuel filtereconomically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the centrifugal pumpsubjects of most of her students’ art. And they were.
But Douglas made a different gate valvekind of picture. Douglas was a different kind of boy. train hornHe was the teacher's true child of misery, frail and unhappy. As other children played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the pain Douglas felt behind those leather beltsad eyes.
Yes, his picture was different. When asked to vacuum sealerdraw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an empty hand.
His abstract image captured air mass sensorthe imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be? One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police multistage pumpprotect and care for people. Dining chairStill others guessed it was the hand of God, for kids playgroundGod feeds us. And so the discussion went—until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.
When the children had gone on film blowing machineto other assignments, she paused at Douglas’ desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was. The little boy looked away and murmured, "It's yours, teacher."
She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him play equipmenthere or there, as she had the other students. How often had she said, "Take my hand, Douglas, we'll go outside." Or, "Let me show you how outdoor play equipmentto hold your bag making machinepencil." Or, "Let's do this together." Douglas was most optical framesthankful for hisRubber mat teacher's hand.
Brushing aside a tear, she wentAmusement rideon with her work.
The story speaks of more than thankfulness.Vacuum Sealer It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how muchKitchen furniture it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks, but they'll injection moldingremember the hand that reaches out.
Thanksgiving Day was near. warning labelsThe first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment—to draw a picture of something for which theySOLENOID VALVE were thankful.
Most of the class might be considered fuel filtereconomically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the centrifugal pumpsubjects of most of her students’ art. And they were.
But Douglas made a different gate valvekind of picture. Douglas was a different kind of boy. train hornHe was the teacher's true child of misery, frail and unhappy. As other children played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the pain Douglas felt behind those leather beltsad eyes.
Yes, his picture was different. When asked to vacuum sealerdraw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an empty hand.
His abstract image captured air mass sensorthe imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be? One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police multistage pumpprotect and care for people. Dining chairStill others guessed it was the hand of God, for kids playgroundGod feeds us. And so the discussion went—until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.
When the children had gone on film blowing machineto other assignments, she paused at Douglas’ desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was. The little boy looked away and murmured, "It's yours, teacher."
She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him play equipmenthere or there, as she had the other students. How often had she said, "Take my hand, Douglas, we'll go outside." Or, "Let me show you how outdoor play equipmentto hold your bag making machinepencil." Or, "Let's do this together." Douglas was most optical framesthankful for hisRubber mat teacher's hand.
Brushing aside a tear, she wentAmusement rideon with her work.
The story speaks of more than thankfulness.Vacuum Sealer It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how muchKitchen furniture it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks, but they'll injection moldingremember the hand that reaches out.
The hands of a grateful heart thanksgiving
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