MARTINSBURG - Two of the toughest lessons to TEACH are tolerance and patience. Which means it is even tougher for everyone to LEARN such lessons.

We all have our moments: our toes tapping on the accelerator as the old man in the car in front of us inches forward when the traffic signal turns green; our ire rising as the woman ahead in the checkout lane pulls a handful of coupons from her wallet; our frustration when a "dumb" boss commands us to perform mundane tasks because he doesn't understand them himself; our inability to grieve with the man who's lost his home because he can't stop drinking. But as adults we know that life isn't always going to go our way and that we have to put up with many moments and many individuals driving us to brink of intolerance and impatience.

So imagine how difficult it is for 3-year-olds, who have only been on the planet for fewer than 1,500 days, to wait their turn on the slide; eat foods they've never tried before; share their favorite car or doll with a child they've just met; stay awake when they feel like it's naptime; and listen to new sets of rules and instructions from someone they see just six hours a week.
Welcome to preschool!!

With several students in one class, the two "I" words -- intolerance and impatience -- are around every corner. But I am a firm believer that children model adult behavior, even when we trick ourselves into thinking that kids aren't paying us any attention.

The best way for me, as a preschool teacher, to teach concepts like tolerance and patience is to be tolerant and patient myself. To trust that the child who refuses to share the blocks will soon hold a pan while his classmate stirs the spoon around inside of it. To know that the child who always asks for the color blue will suddenly begin to paint with red. To have faith that the child who pushes too hard will start hugging her new friends when they seem sad.

How can we expect our children, our students, to wait and empathize with others when we can't do that ourselves?

Recently, my sister struggled to help her golden retriever, suffering with severe anemia, walk outdoors to pee. As her dog Lucy dragged herself to a neighboring tree lawn to go, an old woman opened her door and admonished my sister for allowing Lucy to wet on her grass! Instead of ignoring the crabby lady, Sis, in a bout of sudden grief, crassly spoke out. "My dog is dying of cancer and will be dead soon. You won't have to worry about your precious lawn again." She called me right away, worried about her outburst.

I told her that we all have our moments when we act like 3-year-olds. A few hours later, she called me back. The woman had just appeared at her door with a homemade cake. It seems she'd found out recently that her own son was dying of brain cancer.

"I'm sorry. I just haven't been myself," she admitted to my sister.
Suddenly, it may be hard to know, in that moment, just who's the teacher and who's the student.

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