Sunday, October 27, 2013

This is Not Your Home

Hello,

Chemistry and Embryology (study of embryos) were subjects for my degrees. So, somewhere along my teaching career, I taught science also along with reading and math---to the preschoolers, no less. I often picked up dead bees, crickets and spiders from my walks, and brought them to my class the next morning.

I used this story to teach children about insects. And yes, we saw some of these insects-dead or in pictures, or live ones too.

For 5-7-year-old children.

Meera


This is Not Your Home


Weavy, a baby spider decided to go home after a long walk in the woods.
He reached home.  “I’m home, Mama. Please let me in.”
A cricket answered, “This is not your home, and I’m not your Mama. I am an insect, I have six legs, and I live in holes.”
Weavy counted his legs. There were eight. He hung his head down and walked on.
He reached home.  “I’m home, Mama. Please let me in.”
A grasshopper answered, “This is not your home, and I’m not your Mama. I am an insect, I have four wings and I live in grass.”
Weavy looked for his wings. There were none. He hung his head down and walked on.
He reached home, “I’m home, Mama. Please let me in.”
A ladybug answered, “This is not your home, and I’m not your Mama. I am an insect, I have two antennae on my head and I live in shrubs.”
Weavy wiggled his head. There were no antennae. He hung his head down and walked on.
He reached home. “I’m home, Mama. Please let me in.”
A butterfly answered, “This is not your home, and I’m not your Mama. I am an insect, my body is divided into three parts, and I live under leaves.”
Weavy counted his body parts. There were two. He hung his head down and walked on.
He reached home. “I’m home, Mama. Please let me in.”
A honeybee answered, “This is not your home, and I’m not your Mama. I am an insect, I have an exoskeleton, and I live in honey combs.”
Weavy felt his body. He had no skeleton at all. He hung down his head and plopped down on the ground. He saw an ant scurrying around.
Weavy mumbled, “Please, don’t say anything. I know, you’re not my Mama and I’m not an insect.”
The ant nodded, “That’s right, Weavy. But you don’t know that insects lay eggs, not young ones.”
Tired Weavy shrugged, rolled his eyes and cried out, “Mama, I want to come home.”
The mama spider, dangling by a thread, scooped up Weavy. She took him home, “Weavy, this web is your home and you are an arachnid.”
Weavy smiled, “Mama, I’m happy I am not an insect and that I live in a web. Mama, what is an arachnid?” 


The End




© 2013, Meera Desai Shah


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