Ducklings

The Middle School where I taught part-time was a monstrously large building of hallways, classrooms and courtyards. The courtyards were planted with flowers and trees and opened to the sky. Every spring for many years, a mother duck would fly into one of these spaces, lay her eggs and wait for them to hatch. A certain science teacher, whose classroom faced the courtyard, and his students, watched daily. Every spring they witnessed the hatching of several ducklings. Getting out of the courtyard with her ducklings was impossible for the mother because they had not yet learned to fly. So, every year, this science teacher would lead the parade of his furry friends through his classroom, down the long corridors, and out to the green meadows beyond.