Medvedev Dmitriy: http://www.proza.ru/2012/06/17/931
“We could also use an expert on nutrition,” the kindergarten caretaker complained, taking me to another girl:
“This one, for example, eats only certain types of food, following some unclear continuity. We just can’t find a way to make her eat in a balanced way.”
I took another note and turned my sight on the friend of the troubled child. Following my gaze, the teacher continued:
“This girl won’t talk to boys, runs away from them or starts a fight. She probably has problems inside the family.”
I wrote that down as well.
“And here we can see a sitting boy who won’t play anything. The most he does is to collect the cubes to keep the order, but mostly just sits in his corner. Maybe he should be checked for autism?”
From another corner came a loud cry. We turned simultaneously.
“This is the voice of a boy who doesn’t like it when we turn on the TV or toys with lights. Maybe it’s a symptom of epilepsy? Here we could use another experts’ opinion.
“And this is the resident bully?” I’ve pointed out to a boy who stood nearby and played with the remote control.
“By all means no, there’s another one who’s the bully. He comes to other children with his own rules: who has to play what, who has to sit where. Those who disobey, he tries to hit. And this one is just hyperactive- want everyone to be busy and with no rules whatsoever.
“You’re so nice, I love you so much,” suddenly one girl cried out and run to hug the caretaker.
My companion smiled and caressed her hair. After that, she turned to and said without a trace of a smile:
“There’s something going on with this one. She jumps like that every ten minutes. And all her games are about loving me. Maybe her family lacks affection or she centered on something: she cares for nothing else.”
I nodded her head in understanding.
“This boy here lives in his imaginary world and won’t even respond to me. This girl plays only with toys of a certain color. This one needs nothing, but won’t share a thing. And this one constantly complains,” The teacher continued, walking faster and pointing towards each child.
“Could it be that all the children here have problems demanding our intervention?” I was astounded.
“Not all of them,” the caretaker regained her breath. “There’s a boy, who eats well, according to his mood, plays with every toy available and with anyone who doesn’t object, and comes up with legitimate complains. In other words, he acts like a normal, happy child of his age, because he follows no religion.
* * *
I finished my notes, spread my wings and flew to the other world with a thought that God won’t be too happy with the report on his children from Earth.