Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Stars [antikvár]

GERVASEI was not a particularly clever or confident child, never the bright little button who sat on the top table with all the clever children, with his hand always in the air to answer the teacher's questions, the talented artist, sharp at number work, the good speller, the one who won all the cups, captained the school team, took the lead part in the school play. I was a member of the unremarkable majority - the average pupil, the big hump in the academic bell, the nothing special' sort of child, ordinary, biddable, quiet.Last year I visited my former infant school headmistress, the redoubtable Miss Wilkinson. She was a loi years old but still had the shining eyes of the great teacher.'You have done very well, Gervase,' she said, shaking my hand. All those books you have written. Doctor this and professor that - you have more degrees than a thermometer.' Then she added with a twinkle in those shining eyes, 'And you were never one of the brightest in the class, were you?''No, I wasn't,' I replied. 'I suppose I was a pretty average child but if I've achieved anything in life it is because of my parents and teachers like you who believed in me and encouraged me.'