ALSphere Foundation
Math was a nightmare I lived through everyday,
Those forty minutes of class from which I wished to run away.
My teacher was stern, I had never seen her smile.
I feared the look she would give us when sums didn’t go right.
One day my father found me crying over a test I had failed.
He put me on his lap and said math was a piece of cake.
And then began an adventure we go on every day.
He turns everything to math-flowers, stones, and grapes.
An hour every evening is Mathemerry Time,
To learn from the birds perching on the telephone line.
Substractions were fun when some birds flew away.
I would add all of them when others took their place.
The friendly grocer uncle would wait with amused patience
While I exercised my mind with coins, notes, and prices.
Now, dad walks me to our farm to gather some tomatoes,
Or peas or carrots, even flowers as the season goes.
I would then apportion them, equally among friends.
Math was never so meaningful and really so much fun.
I passed with flying numbers; math was my newest friend.
The old foes and fears were finally put to an end.
Math is a toy in my new class teacher’s hands.
Such games we play, boredom does not get a chance.
Math is now a dream, I live through every day.
For those forty minutes of class, I would come running from anywhere.
Those forty minutes of class from which I wished to run away.
My teacher was stern, I had never seen her smile.
I feared the look she would give us when sums didn’t go right.
One day my father found me crying over a test I had failed.
He put me on his lap and said math was a piece of cake.
And then began an adventure we go on every day.
He turns everything to math-flowers, stones, and grapes.
An hour every evening is Mathemerry Time,
To learn from the birds perching on the telephone line.
Substractions were fun when some birds flew away.
I would add all of them when others took their place.
The friendly grocer uncle would wait with amused patience
While I exercised my mind with coins, notes, and prices.
Now, dad walks me to our farm to gather some tomatoes,
Or peas or carrots, even flowers as the season goes.
I would then apportion them, equally among friends.
Math was never so meaningful and really so much fun.
I passed with flying numbers; math was my newest friend.
The old foes and fears were finally put to an end.
Math is a toy in my new class teacher’s hands.
Such games we play, boredom does not get a chance.
Math is now a dream, I live through every day.
For those forty minutes of class, I would come running from anywhere.
