I speak, usually, the student listens.
and watches my face as I talk. We look down at their work, usually a drawing of sorts, and then back at one another. I take their pencil, and when handy, a scrap of paper, and show them what I am thinking. I draw. They watch, they take their pencil, and at first, try to copy.
We keep working together, until their hopes become reality - the few scratched lines suddenly become the color of the iris, the missed white spots shows how the reflection hits their eye.
And there it is- the moment, the moment I sing for,
when my student looks up in amazement at what he or she has made, that their drawing suddenly looks how it does, in this case, more realistic than they could have ever imagined.
There's a different look when the students eyes meet mine this time. It's excitement, it's appreciation, it's thanks- thanks to me for believing in them.
And my smile back, means, my pleasure hun...anytime.
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