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墨書 Inktalez
The roof leaks just as the night rain falls; it seems that misfortunes in life always come in pairs.
The gathering had just ended when the kindergarten teacher's call came through, her voice carrying an undeniable seriousness over the line, informing us about tomorrow's parent meeting.
Clearing her throat, she said, "Today, we have something very important to discuss regarding one of the children in our class." Her gaze shifted toward us, and I felt all eyes focused on me and Weicong.
"Some parents have reported that Haohao's behavior in class is affecting the learning of other children."
As soon as she finished speaking, a murmur erupted in the meeting room.
"My child came home saying that Haohao never follows the rules, runs around, and talks too much," one parent stood up, clearly dissatisfied.
"Yes, we also hope the kindergarten can address this issue; after all, it concerns the learning environment for all the children," another parent chimed in.
"My son also said he snatches toys!"
Parents began to voice their complaints all at once. Their grievances were like a biting winter wind, piercing to the bone.
Weicong quickly stood up. His shadow stretched long against the wall, as if burdened by heavy shackles.
"I sincerely apologize for the trouble caused to everyone. Haohao doesn't do this on purpose; he just can't control his behavior well right now. He doesn't know how to express himself and has no concept of ownership! So he acts according to his own will. We are working hard to help him adapt. Please help him," he pleaded with a tone full of helplessness and desperation.
He deeply bowed to each parent in apology. I joined him, our bent backs resembling branches weighed down by frost and snow.
Gradually, the murmurs of discontent subsided; some parents began to nod in understanding. Although some still harbored doubts, at least we had secured a glimmer of hope for Haohao.
That afternoon, I arrived early at the kindergarten and hid in a corner, wanting to see how Haohao behaved when we weren't around.
I saw him playing alone in a corner with sand, occasionally looking up at the other children playing nearby, his eyes filled with longing.
However, whenever he tried to approach them, the other kids scattered like they were avoiding a plague, leaving him standing there alone and helpless.
My heart ached so much that I could hardly breathe, and tears blurred my vision.
I watched as Haohao lowered his head, repeatedly digging in the sand with his small hands, as if trying to excavate a hiding place for himself.
In the middle of the night, Haohao was once again haunted by nightmares. With his eyes closed, he panicked and kept saying, "The muffin ball was washed down the drain, the muffin ball was washed down the drain!" My heart felt like it was being sliced by a knife, unbearable with pain.
How can I help you, my little son? I decided to go back to the kindergarten with Weicong to talk to Haohao's teacher. I hoped to find a way to provide Haohao with the support he needed without putting pressure on the teacher.
"Teacher, we need your help. After this time of contact, you may have noticed that although Haohao's understanding of rules is not very good, as long as it’s not something he particularly dislikes, his emotions are stable. Moreover, if he is determined, he will follow the teacher's instructions," I said earnestly. My voice echoed in the empty classroom, almost as if there was an echo.
"Could you please compliment him every day in front of him? Even if it's just for sitting on the chair for an extra minute or picking up something that fell on the floor—small progress like that?" The teacher looked at me and nodded.
"I can do that; I usually encourage them anyway."
We prepared a record book, where we would note any small progress we observed in him, whether it was through watching kindergarten surveillance or my own observations. We would record both his small achievements and challenges, as well as any compliments from the teacher. We hoped this way would help the teacher see Xiaoming's efforts and feel our persistence while expressing our gratitude for her dedication.
"Haohao, today Mommy brought you a little caterpillar toy. Remember, each child gets one! What do you want to say to your friends?" Besides needing to prompt his active language skills, he remained silent and didn’t know what to say.
"You should tell your friends, 'I like you; this is for you.'"
"I like you; this is for you," he repeated after me.
Week after week passed. Time slipped through our fingers like fine sand, and we treated each grain with care.
"Haohao, these are the toys you shared with your friends this week. If they say thank you, you should respond with 'You're welcome; can I play with you?'"
"You're welcome; can I play with you?" Although he was still just mimicking words, it seemed he had added his own thoughts.
Haohao's adaptation issues at kindergarten did not show immediate improvement due to our efforts. He still appeared somewhat out of place during group activities but was easier to send to kindergarten than before.
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