Hat party!

For the last six years, one of the regrets I have when it’s time for me to go to Charlottesville in November is leaving the pre-schoolers I read to on Friday afternoons. We just met in September and, since they are only three, my two month absence is equivalent to 5% of their entire little lives.
This year, however, my leave-taking was easier. Indeed, it was a festive occasion.
Two years ago, I decided to learn to knit – after two or three other abortive attempts. Since I’m not very clever with manual tasks, I knew I’d need lots of practice. How could I do that and not get bored? My answer – “I’ll make hats for the kids.” Not the class I was reading to in 2007 – that would have been too lofty and stressful a goal. Not even the class I had last year because, by the time I finished the 18 hats I needed it was spring, and woollen hats were no longer appropriate. So the hats were destined for this year’s kids.
Of course, this year, there are 25 children instead of 18 so I had a busy fall making 7 extra hats in just 8 weeks. Since each one was different, I invited Christine, their teacher, to my house for tea one afternoon and we decided together which hat should be given to which child. She said that, the Friday before I left, she’d have them make a cake in the morning and, instead of story-time, we’d have a party.
On Thursday I wrapped 25 little presents



On Friday I set off to school.
The children, just getting up from their nap, rushed to me squealing “We made you a cake!” When everyone was dressed and reasonably calm, I called each one to come get his or her surprise. Three year olds are unpredictable. Though most of them were eager and delighted, two little boys refused -- one firmly, one shyly -- to take their presents even once they saw what their classmates unwrapped!
Photos were taken,







a little impromptu dancing occurred

Then they all hung the hats on their coat hooks and rushed back to have cake and Coke.


Afterwards, getting dressed for recess was more confusing than usual. Most children were happy to wear their new hats. Some were confused since they’d come to school in one hat and now had two.


Eventually, they swarmed into the playground wearing the hat of their choice.
Half an hour later it was time to go home and more confusion ensued. One little fellow no longer had his hat. When asked where it was he replied cheerfully; “I don’t know.”
Photographic proof that he used to have a hat!


One little girl eagerly showed her mother her new hat and then said “But I’m giving it to you, because I already have two.”


One mother, who had rushed off before Christine could explain the new headgear, dragged her protesting little boy back after they were half-way to the métro, convinced that he had taken some other child’s hat.
Soon it was time to say “Goodbye” and “See you next year” to the teachers and the principal and float away from school with a big grin on my face. I was still smiling the next day as I began to pack – though my apartment felt empty with no hats in it.

The happy knitter