Colouring Time

I take care of two very cute girls one day a week. They absolutely love to colour. They colour pictures that I print off the web; they colour pictures they invent themselves; they just love to colour.

When I'm with them, I love to colour too. But what I've noticed is that colouring is to these two little girls what tea or coffee time is to me. Suddenly, after I've brought out the box of many coloured sticks of wax, the words begin to flow. I hear stories of friends and family that have impacted these two. I learn probably more than their parents would like me to know about their home life. We invent stories and laugh at ridiculous three and five year old jokes. It's a special time. It doesn't matter what we are actually drawing. Many times the wonderfully coloured pictures are covered in swirls of gold or silver to indicate a wind storm or something similar.

As they colour I learn where they are at in their learning. Suddenly there are words on their pages, or numbers, or pictures of stick people with hooks in the place of arms. We frequently sing songs and give hand motions to them. Inevitably I end up with the three year old on my lap giving me hugs and both of them telling me they are practically starving to death asking me for a snack.

It's a special time. And although these little girls are not my own, I feel very close to them and very honoured to spend this time with them. I hope one day they will be coming to visit me and we really will have a cup of tea or coffee and little grandma biscuits. Then I hope we will laugh and share stories and I will remind them of the colouring times we had when they were five and three.