The year was 1966, my kindergartners are certain dinosaurs roamed Flagler Street, when I graduated from the University of Florida. During those "Ozzie and Harriet" years young female collegiates had only two things on their minds. Number one, would you spend your brief professional life as a teacher or nurse. Brief professional careers terminated of course once children entered the family picture, and number two, who would you marry upon graduation. As I look back it does seem a century ago. The two income families that were to emerge in the 80s ended civilization as I knew it.

My future husband Alan, was graduating from the University of Miami, and together with thousands of other American youth we fearfully awaited our letter from the United States Army. The formal stationary with the bald eagle and black calligraphy said, report to Germany; not welcome to Viet Nam as the majority of our friends had experienced. So, like the Pilgrims before us, we packed our cherished belongings and crossed the Atlantic to settle in a new land.

We were scared, we were naive...and more to the point we were not very smart. Being native Miamians I do believe it was one of the very few times either of us had traveled outside the Florida boarders.

Pan American landed on Wednesday and on Saturday we were attending our first of many "Hail and Farewells" on our tiny Officer's Club in Zweibrucken, Germany. From across a crowded room came a charming red-headed man with a warm smile and welcoming hand shake. Mrs. Nichols, he said, "I am thrilled to hear you are a Kindergarten teacher."

Now (here's where the "young and naive" part comes in) I said "sure...that's me!" ­ I neglected to add the part that to date I had only "practice taught" in kindergarten and I was just looking forward to being on their substitute teacher list.

Well he said, "That's wonderful and I'm here to offer you a job as our very own kindergarten teacher."

Now, you, dear reader, may be thinking this man offered the job because, as my wonderful classroom parents are today; youth and gravity were on my side. Or, maybe you think I was a famous writer, had just won the Nobel Peace Prize, or had an international teaching reputation. Au contraire .. the truth is the real kindergarten teacher had simply not shown up.

That was Saturday and the following Monday I smiled, half in shock into the faces of thirty-some five year olds. It was

love at first sight for both of us.

You see, in my E.D.E. text books zillions of miles back in "the States," I had memorized facts that lead even the most astute reader to believe kindergarten teachers were educated to train the empty minds of five year olds. By the end of our first month together I knew the truth. It was my honor to sit at their feet on our sacred Peace Rug and listen to how simply and beautifully they viewed life. Every child knew our class rules: (1) Always do unto others as you would have others do unto you. (2) Smile and the world will smile with you. (3) "Endure your discomforts." (4) Behave as though the Queen of England herself had chosen you and (5) if your team gets all their math problems correct Mrs. Nichols will give an impromptu tap dance on your table top to the tune of "Walking My Baby Back Home."

On days when the weather permitted we used to walk hand in hand out to the German mountainside, lay in the short grassy spots looking up at the sky and make stories out of the clouds. (That's what you did before Nintendo and Pokemon). Some days the most exquisite geese this Native Miamian had ever seen flew over our heads and honked and honked, we thought at us, and we gleefully honked back from our warm grassy beds. Later from our worn-out 1958 World Books back in the classroom we learned they were indeed not honking at us earthlings. Instead they were honking cherishing words of encouragement to their leader. Goose words like "Good Luck," "Keep up your wonderful leadership," "You are so strong and brave and we are so lucky to have you." The lead goose always knew his job was to shield his friends from the harsh winds swirling around them. So he spread his wings wide and worked even harder to please and protect his lovely honking friends.
From that day to this my kindergartners learned, honk the good ­ rise above the bad. And at all cost ... stick together. You will travel 71% faster ­ and you will be 200% happier when sharing the thrust with your friends.

I still correspond with many of my children from Germany and we end every letter with the words "you'll love to know I'm still honking..."

Your homework tonight is to turn off your cell phone and lay in your backyard, make pictures and stories from the clouds ... look, I guarantee you'll see a queen, angles and ice cream castles, and I promise that your little ones will tell you the most amazing stories. Enjoy those moments, and by all means remember to keep honking words of admiration, respect and encouragement to your five year old.

Sue Nichols, born and raised in Miami-Dade County, is a teacher at St. Thomas Episcopal Parish School, and has 24 years experience with kindergarten classrooms.