Mrs. Crawford could see the excitement building in Jacob as "Show and Tell"
time approached. The little 6 year old grade one student was nearly
vibrating with anticipation. This wasn't a good sign. When it came to
Jacob's choice of items to share with the class, anything was possible. One rainy day, he had collected worms in his pocket from the school yard. More recently, he had wanted to bring his baby sister to share with the class.
Mentally stealing herself for the worst, Mrs. Crawford asked the magic
question,
"Does anyone have anything for show and tell?"
One hand leaped straight into the air followed by three other tentative
possibilities. "I do, Mrs. Crawford, I do!" said Jacob.
May as well get it over with, the teacher thought. "Jacob, why don't you
show us what you have brought to share with us."
Jacob reached into his pants pocket and brought out a beautiful antique
harmonica. The silver metallic sides gleamed in the neon lights of the
classroom. For a moment the sly whispers and hustle and bustle of the
class quieted as the other children paused to admire the little musical
instrument.
Surprised, Mrs. Crawford was almost at a loss for words. "Why Jacob, it's
beautiful!" she said at last.
"It belonged to my grandfather," Jacob explained.
As if a spell had been broken the other children began demanding a closer
look at the harmonica and Jacob proudly passed it around the room for them
to see. Within minutes two of the boys were struggling over whose turn it
was to admire Jacob's prize. Reluctantly, Mrs. Crawford had to step in and
take it away from them.
"This is so beautiful Jacob, I'm afraid it might get lost. I'll keep it
here on my desk until it's time for you to go home."
The other children moaned, but Mrs. Crawford was a good teacher and they
were soon immersed in other things. It was only when Mrs. Crawford went to
have a closer look at the harmonica at recess that she realized it was
missing. The teacher immediately hurried out to the school yard, several
possibilities for the harmonic's disappearance occurring to her. It didn't
take her long to find Jacob sitting with his back to the school wall
obviously in tears. As she approached, she soon understood the cause of
his sadness. In his little hands were the broken remains of his
grandfather's harmonica.
"Oh Jacob," she exclaimed, "What happened?"
Jacob looked up to her, tears running down his pudgy cheeks. "David broke
it.,' he said. "I had it in my pocket and he kicked me and broke it!"
Mrs. Crawford rounded up David Evers, a troubled boy in her class, and took
both of them to see the Vice Principal. Mr. Bryant was a bearded happy man
with a knack for handling the crisis of young children. When he learned
that David had kicked Jacob because Jacob had spit on him and called him
names, he knew he was getting into familiar territory. He dealt with David
first giving him a stern lecture and sending him on his way. David would have to spend the next recess doing sums for Mr. Bryant. He also spoke
to Jacob about spitting and then told him he was keeping his grandfather's
harmonica until the next day.
A sad Jacob returned to class with Mrs. Crawford, who hoped for the
thousandth time that this kind of misfortune had taught Jacob a lesson.
The next morning at recess, Jacob and Mrs. Crawford were called down to Mr.
Bryant's office.
"Jacob," Mr. Bryant said, "I have a story to tell you. When I was a little
boy my grandfather also played the harmonica." He reached into the inside
pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slightly larger harmonica than
Jacob's had been. "This is it. It is the only thing of my grandfather's
that I own and I value it more than almost anything. My grandfather died
many years ago and this is all I have to remember him. This is a treasure
Jacob, not a musical instrument. Do you understand that?"
Jacob nodded his head sadly.
Mr. Bryant reached into his other pocket and withdrew Jacob's Harmonica,
perfectly reassembled and gleaming once again in the lights of his office.
Jacob's face lit up almost as brightly.
"I took your harmonica home with me last night," Mr. Bryant told him. "I
polished the metal surfaces, sanded the wood and reassembled the sides. It
took me many hours of work, but this is so important that I don't mind."
He played a few bars of "When the Saints Come Marching In". "This is a
treasure too, Jacob. If I give it back to you I want you to promise you
will never bring it to school again and will keep it at home in a safe
place."
Jacob proudly took hold of the instrument, only to have Mrs. Crawford take
it away from him.
"I will keep this for you, Jacob until it is time for you to go home."
"Will you keep it safe for me," Jacob asked.
"I will, Jacob. I will." said Mrs. Crawford, very moved by the Vice
Principal's story.
When Jacob's mother came to school to get him Mrs. Crawford could hardly
wait to tell her what the Vice Principal had done. Jacob's mother was
also moved and pleased Mr. Bryant had gone to all that trouble.
"Especially," She told Mrs. Crawford, "Because we have forty of these at
home. My father was a professional musician and this was the smallest one
in his collection. We only gave this one to Jacob to play with because we
knew it would probably get damaged, knowing Jacob as we do."
Which left Mrs. Crawford wondering if she should return to the school to
tell Mr. Bryant the rest of the tale. In the end, she decided not to tell him, but
for the rest of her life she could not remember Jacob and his harmonica without
feeling just a little better about the world in which she lived.
(C) B.E. Fraser & L.D. Fraser, 1998 No copying or republication of this material without the expressed permission of the author is permitted.
