Tell Me About Your Picture

 Over the past year, our (a) has become quite the little artist.  Now, I don’t mean he is going to be the next famous Renaissance painter or any kind of child prodigy- his skills are very equivalent with his age, BUT he loves making art.  Frequently he will choose to sit down with his crayons, colored pencils, and markers to make pictures or cards that he loves to share and give away.   I can already tell that gift giving is one of his love languages, and he is so proud to hand over that special piece of artwork.  Many years ago, in my college class about art for elementary teachers I learned an important piece of advice- don’t ever ask a child “What is this?” but instead ask “Tell me about your picture.”  The phrasing can often make a difference in the confidence they have in their work, and so I try very hard to do this whenever I am handed one of his masterpieces. 

 

As I enjoy these cute gestures, I have come to appreciate his descriptions even more.  Often when I look at them I simply see stick people (who have really big eyes right now), and I can usually find his name or the names of others he knows how to spell.  But when he starts telling me about his picture, a much more vivid story plays out.  And before long, I can usually see many more details and the picture comes to mean more to me.  This week he attended kindergarten round-up (how did THAT happen so quickly!?) and afterwards had to hangout in my classroom for another couple hours while I worked after school.  While I worked on lesson plans and videos for my two remote students, he used a pack of washable markers and some scrap paper to draw me a couple masterpieces.  When I was done working, he presented them to me and we went through our usual ritual of “Ohhh!! I love it! Tell me about your picture!”  He explained each stick person to me- they were each of us in his family, including some aunts, uncles, and a baby cousin (who he said with a giggle “looks kind of like a Lego person in my picture, but that’s ok”).  He went on to show me how he was riding his pony, Snoopy, and he didn’t have the color he wanted for Snoopy, so he just made his mane blue (said with a shrug as if the substitution had been no big deal for him).  He explained that his second picture was the American flag and his little brother was holding it.  Some of these little details I might have caught on my own if given a few minutes, but many of them I would have missed without the explanation (especially the part about his cousin looking like a Lego person). 

It made me think about how many times I just see what something appears to be at first sight, instead of understanding the whole picture or the explanation behind it.  I see the mess that is made without knowing what they were looking for or what game they were playing.  I see the unfinished dinner, but didn’t know about the snack Daddy grabbed them on the way home.  I think of times I am easily frustrated with others or run out of patience, when I don’t know the whole story.  And then there are times when hear the “bigger picture” or find out more details to the story, and my heart is broken by the reality of what I missed. 

 

As I strive to love and lead my littles, as I teach and nurture my students, as I work with and interact with others- may I always try to pause and understand more about the picture.  See more than just the first glance, understand more than my basic assumptions, and care enough to ask “tell me about it.”

 

“For we are God’s masterpiece.  He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10