Montessori mother - Kamelini Montessori

A MONTESSORI MOTHER 15
entirely fortuitous observation of his performance,
nobody had seen his absorption any more than they
now saw his apparent idleness.
I tucked all these observations away in a corner of
my mind for future reflection, and moved on to the
nearest child, a little girl, perhaps a year older than
the boy, who was absorbed as eagerly as he over a
similar light wooden frame, covered with two pieces
of cloth. But these were fastened together with pieces
of ribbon which the child was tying and untying.
There was no fumbling here. As rapidly, as deftly,
with as careless a light-hearted ease as a pianist run-
ning over his scales, she was making a series of the
flattest, most regular bow-knots, much better, I knew
in my heart, than I could accomplish at anything like
that speed. Although she had advanced beyond the
stage of intent struggle with her material, her inter-
est and pleasure in her own skill was manifest. She
looked up at me, and then smiled proudly down at
her flying fingers.
with a leather-
Beyond her another little boy,
covered frame, was laboriously inserting shoe-buttons
into their buttonholes with the aid of an ordinary
button-hook. As I looked at him, he left off, and
stooping over his shoes, tried to apply the same system
to their buttons. That was too much for him.
After a prolonged struggle he gave it up for the
time, returning, however, to the buttons on his frame
with entirely undiminished ardor.
Next to him sat a little girl, with a pile of small