Your mention of grade school, and such, brought back a flood of intricate and precious (teaching) memories.
One in particular will give you something to think about ~ I hope.
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When school supplies were used for the first time, there was a magical, possessive moment of anticipation. The children glanced about to compare their crayon box to everyone else’s, then they opened the top of their own.
Each boy and girl familiarized themselves with the colors, reading the names, feeling the points and examining the empty slots which housed their tools.

Crayons were either taken out individually or simply dumped out (usually the boys) on the desk. It was normal to hear one or two explaining where they’d bought all their school things and sometimes, a mother’s reminder to take care of them, was quoted.

Later, these same boxes would be reduced to dog-eared shells, missing tabs and patched with tape. Color choices grew slim since the favorites had been shrunk to paperless stubs. By this time, students felt comfortable borrowing from their ‘best’ friends.

After an art activity had been explained and demonstrated, I let my children develop their own rendition of our topic of interest. Several tubs with tiny scraps of construction paper, glitter, glue and other colorful items were available.

As I walked around, I would comment on, or inquire about, their particular picture…
“Why is he holding that?” “Is this her dog?” “Who is she giving the flower to?”
It was fascinating to learn about my students through their art.
I circled the groups continually and finally stopped at one girl’s desk.

She was using ALOT of glue on a soggy sheet of paper. Before chiding her I realized her artwork was completely different from everyone else’s.
Instead of selecting items from the art buckets, she’d opened up the bottom of her stoic (and ragged) crayon box to gather a large collection of shavings.

“Isn’t this pretty?” She beamed, while happily sprinkling the mixture onto her puddles of glue. I don’t think I said anything at first.
It was the concept that struck me.
She’d discovered a GOLDMINE of color in the remnants of her treasured ‘tools’.

All were indiscriminately cast together to celebrate their last bit of glory in one final, dazzling presentation.
All were a part of the whole.
Nothing was wasted.
The end of THIS box of crayons was exalted.
It was a new, and final, creation SHE was thrilled with!

Naturally, within minutes, EVERY child in that room had scraped out THEIR box or had a bit of someone else’s crayon ‘glitter’.
I liked seeing how great ideas were accepted and emulated.
But there was something else, too.

The new had grown old and it’s usefulness was dwindling.
It was as if a sense of closure was needed, to validate the importance of that
first, vibrant box of crayons…
in the second grade.

Sure, there were bigger boxes to buy!
That was a given.
That was a certainty.
And that was the right thing to do.

I will miss you terribly.
BUT..
this box of crayons is ’bout done.
Use the last of your time here to ‘create’ that lasting
memory of THIS time.
Waste nothing.

We EXPECT you to ‘buy that new, bigger box’, Kris.
It’s the right thing to do!!!!!!!!
Make sure it has tons of different colors…I especially like the metallic ones :”)
And ~
make sure it has a sharpener.

Love you,
kat