I saw the first ones when the little girls began picking them during recess, and joined them by collecting my own handful. The bright yellow dandelions make fairy-like necklaces or princess crowns for the hands patient enough to weave them together. I’ve watched small groups of such little ones bent over at this task every spring since I first began teaching here in the cove.
I sat down on the nearby fallen tree trunk and, while keeping my eyes on the boys laughing & playing with their marbles, leaned back on my hands and turned up my chin to enjoy the noon-day sunshine. I wasn’t so far beyond my own youth that I couldn’t remember making such wildflower strands, and allowed myself a moment to think back of sitting with my childhood classmates. We used our thumbnails to punch a line through each stem to thread another into the notch while drawing from our laps full of the recently picked flowers. And sometimes we even challenged ourselves to make long ropings. I was abruptly brought back to my students’ play when the boys decided to change their activity to teasing the girls by snatching away their fragile crowns.
“Miz Hurley!” they shouted in alarm, ready to collectively declare their objections. I quickly brought my newly developed stern expression and professional teacher’s voice to the occasion.
“You’ns jump up, dust off your hands and let’s get back to our lessons.
I gathered and shepherded them towards the door as though they were my own lambs. I smiled at my imagining because these sheep were actually skipping with their braids bouncing in unison, while the stragglers were dawdling to examine every tiny nothing along the way.
I was thinking of other activities throughout the mountains using the same flower. I knew that the parents & grandparents of these children were also collecting dandelions as generations did before them. There would be fresh wine, jam, wilted greens and tonics in most homes by July and all by using every part of the dandelion from its sunny petals to its roots. But, few knew, as I did, that a good stout dandelion stem also makes an excellent horn after the seeds & wishes were blown away on the wind.
Perhaps I discovered a science lesson during this past hour! One even that the boys might think fun! And, just maybe I’ll add the rolly-polly races that I also once enjoyed with the lesson of the dandelions.
Grandfather’s ancient words tumbled across my mind unexpectedly, “Consider how the wildflowers grow, child,” he said as we walked hand in hand. I will always remember I quietly promised, and smiled again as I looked back at the knoll shimmering & full with its flowers!