Happiness is: memories

The Boston Globe

Beverly Beckham

Way back in the day, fresh out of college, I was a teacher for a year. Room 218. Fourth grade. Devine School. Randolph, Massachusetts.

It was so long ago that I had an old typewriter and the school had a mimeograph machine.

I sang my way through the entire year that I taught. I was under the influence of Deborah Kerr, who played a teacher in ``The King and I,'' and Julie Andrews, who not only taught seven children to behave but whose cheerful songs made running from the Nazis look like fun.

I was also under the influence of my fellow teacher and talented friend, Ann Galvin, who played guitar, made up songs, and sang with her students almost every afternoon, and whose classroom was right next to mine.

Following in these women's steps, I taught my students ``Getting to know you, getting to know all about you,'' and ``Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,'' and ``Trailers for sale or rent. Rooms to let - 50 cents.'' Though I couldn't play the guitar, I brought in a record player and records and we moved desks and danced to these songs.

Halloween that year was the first real holiday my class and I celebrated. It wasn't so much of a big deal back then, not by today's standards, but I was still a child myself, so I made it big.

I read the children every spooky story I could find (this was before Stephen King, which is probably a good thing) and had them write stories of their own (an English lesson). We drew life-size pictures of witches and goblins and ghouls (an art lesson), then marched these drawings around in a parade (physical exercise), and taped them to the walls (recycling before it became popular).

And, of course, in between all these things, we sang songs.

There weren't many Halloween songs to choose from - ``The Monster Mash'' and ``One-Eyed, One-Horned, Flying Purple People Eater,'' which we mastered quickly. And then, because there was nothing else, we borrowed the ``Happiness (is . . .)'' tune from ``You're a Good Man Charlie Brown,'' which the children already knew, and added our own lyrics.

``Halloween is buying a pumpkin, taking him home and carving his face. Halloween is having a party, dunking for apples, winning a race. Halloween is wearing a costume to fool your friends. And Halloween is hoping it never ends.''

The students wrote more lyrics: ``Halloween is candy and popcorn, ice cream and apples, taking your pick. Halloween is sharing your goodies with all your friends and not getting sick.''

And my new husband helped out, too: ``Halloween is tricking and treating the whole night through. And Halloween is having friends with you.''

The children performed their song on stage in the school auditorium at the end of a Halloween play, ``The Great Pumpkin Mystery (a stirring drama in four great acts),'' which they also wrote.

I have the program still, on purple mimeograph paper with the carbon attached. Was it a lesson in production, perhaps?

Or spelling? Scenery, props, lighting, music, and ushers.

Or punctuation? Lucy: All right, who's going out with me for trick or treat?

Or collaboration? Laurie Newell, manager; Susan English and Dena Drinkwater, assistant managers, and THE HELP AND COOPERATION OF ALL THE CHILDREN IN ROOM 218.

Maybe it was all a lesson in nothing. Just some children and one very young teacher, singing and dancing and celebrating life.

Those children are in their 50s now. The young teacher is old and typewriters and mimeograph machines are in museums. It was a long time ago.

But the song we cobbled together feels timeless. My son and daughters sang it when they were young, now their children sing it.

And every time they do, I think of Devine School and my fourth-grade class and smile.