This past winter in my Grade Three classroom we made a dragon mural. We began by cutting out large sheets of blue and grey construction paper to make mountain ranges, streams, and rivers. And then we added our dragons. Some were so large they loomed over the mountain peaks. Others resembled hummingbirds. Some stood perched on a slope. Others were in flight, entering their dragon lairs. Two of the children decided to make a lake for the mural and filled it with fish, happily swimming about in brightly coloured pairs. I asked them to tell me about the lake. They said it was magic.

    “Why do people tell stories?” I asked the Grade 4 and 5 students.

    “For fun,” said one child.

    “Yes,” I agreed. “It is fun to tell stories, especially around a campfire. Why else?”

    “For entertainment,” suggested another.

    “Definitely. Stories are great entertainment. They can be full of adventures and magic. What might be another reason?”

    “To remember things that happened.”

    “Yes, I think that’s one of the main reasons we tell stories. Especially in cultures where there isn’t any other way of recording history. Why else might we tell stories?”

    “To teach lessons,” said another child.

    I nodded. “In fact, that’s how many cultures still teach important values – by telling stories.”

    They sat quietly at their desks while their teacher wrote their ideas on the board. It was a Thursday afternoon. Here was an unfamiliar teacher in their classroom, come to tell them a story. From my perspective I wondered if ten and eleven-year olds would consider themselves too old for storytelling. I began telling a story from India called “A Drum.” It’s one I have told many times.

After lunch in the Grade Two classroom I was in today, children have a choice of silent reading or drawing. Several help themselves to large sheets of white paper from a drawer. When folded in half the paper perfectly mimics the dimensions of a laptop computer, with its fold-up screen and keyboard. At circle time some of the children show their products. Julius has a Toshiba. His keyboard has the letters in rows in alphabetical order, rather than qwerty, but he does have up-down and right-left arrows to one side. He demonstrates how his laptop folds up. I ask him if his Toshiba costs a lot. He thinks about it for a minute and decides to come clean: “A real one would be about $500. This one? Nothing.”