Try Thinking First

So Stephen was happy. Mr Walsh recognised his trophy (even if it wasn’t what he had claimed it was). He had however generated a lot of interest from several of the like minded rugby crazy children. My Walsh stood up and looking out the window, advised Stephen his father was down at the gate. Stephen picked up the ball and proudly left the room. I still sat at the desk. Mr Walsh watched as Stephen crossed the playground and met his father at the gate, followed by a small group of enthusiasts. His father also pleased that the other students were impressed with the ball. Stephen said something and pointed up to the classroom and looking up, Mr Pritchard (senior), waved. Mr Walsh waved back and took out the apple, examining it. “Now, Gregory” he began turning back to me, but concentrating on the apple. “You have a sharp eye and a quick mind. And sometimes, an even quicker tongue. Which will if unchecked, get you into trouble. But, you will need to do a considerable amount of work to use them all correctly.” He looked at me seriously. “That was not the best time to notice the information on the ball. And to speak out like that. It would have been wiser to simply let Stephen believe whatever it was he believed.”

I looked a little concerned. “But, isn’t that the same as lying, sir?” Mr Walsh shook his head. “The truth is, it was a trophy of the All Blacks. Agreed?” Mr Walsh looked at me. “Yes, Sir.” I replied. Mr Walsh continued, “It was simply that the information that Stephen provided was.... (he paused, then smiled) inaccurate.” He looked down at me and smiled. “Agreed?” I laughed. “Yes, Sir. Agreed”. “Good.” Mr Walsh concluded, “But I shall not be giving him marks off for that? Agreed?” “Yes, Sir” I smiled. Enjoying the understanding. “Now, go out and have a run around. There are only a few minutes left.” I stood up to leave. “And Mr Dwyer.” Mr Walsh said, demanding my attention. “Your presentation (see blog Friday 4th January 2013), was extremely well done. I am much impressed.” If Stephen had swelled with pride before, I positively exploded. Mr Walsh, was much impressed. “I thought a student of your age learning that poem in a week was impressive, but for you to have learnt it in one night, and presented it the way you did...? “ He paused again. “Had you practiced the acting out part?” He asked. I stopped. “No Sir.” I cast my eyes down at the ground, wondering if I should tell him. I decided it would be best. ‘I made it up, Sir. As I told the poem.” Mr Walsh smiled. “I thought so, Mr Dwyer. Very, very well done then.” This was a very special moment. Mr Walsh was impressed with my telling of the poem and I watched him thoughtfully consider what he had seen. I proudly left the room and walked down to the playground. Unaware that, in just a few short days, the relationship between Mr Walsh and myself would be harmed by my actions.

(Continued tomorrow)