Gung-ho Gilligan Approaches Life with Gusto

Gung-ho Gilligan Approaches Life with Gusto

“He lied. He died.”

This is the story of Ananias and Sapphira as told by Gung-ho Gilligan, a first-grader.

Every Monday morning for devotions at school, everyone takes a turn sharing what they heard in church or discussed in devotions the day before. Gung-ho Gilligan heard the story of Ananias and Sapphira and proceeded to share a very concise version of it.

Gung-ho Gilligan is in first grade and is experiencing it with inimitable gusto. He has watched five older siblings make their way through school and it is finally his turn. With the benefit of so many siblings’ experiences to guide him, he is quite confident he knows the answers to some of the perplexing problems first grade offers.

This confidence, combined with a well-trained work ethic, fuels an eyes-on-the-prize, forget-alldistractions way of getting things done. Gilligan zeroes in on answers like a fat pony on a carrot.

If a new word just introduced to Gilligan sounds almost like one he already knows, it must be the same one. Never mind the bothersome difference of a few consonant sounds. It’s close enough. The carrot is devoured.

When Gung-ho Gilligan and his four classmates sounded out the word “sum” for the first time, I asked them what it meant. We had discussed it in math class a few times so there was a chance they would know.

“Sum,” however, sounded way too close to another word that Gung-ho Gilligan already knew. When called upon to tell the class what a “sum” was, Gilligan straight away pointed to the shortest digit on his hand, his “thumb.”

Also, according to Gilligan, the opposite of “dim” is “fat.”

While some of Gilligan’s fellow 7-year-olds still sometimes have trouble shutting out distractions and focusing on the task at hand, Gung-ho Gilligan has no such issues. Once he picks up his pencil or recognizes a word, he is locked in. He can taste the carrot already.

Gung-ho Gilligan’s sister, Wisecrack Wanda, is a world-wise eighth grader and can’t help but roll her eyes at some of Gilligan’s utterances.

Wanda is a voracious reader and an English whiz. Proper grammar comes somewhat natural for her.

Little brother Gilligan, while also possessing a bright, quick mind, has not had the benefit of much reading on his own. His grammar is a bit shaky at times.

When Gilligan was asked to use the word “sat” in a sentence, he was completely willing. After all, he knew perfectly well what it meant. “We are satting on the bench,” he quickly composed.

The bull’s-eye approach carries over to the playground for Gung-ho Gilligan. Once he knows where he wants to go, what sense is there in dawdling around? The pedal is stomped flat and Gilligan makes a beeline for the goal.

We are playing softball. Gilligan has just beaten out a single and it is my turn to bat. I smack one deep into the outfield. It could be a triple or even a home run. I hustle for first base, intending to get as much as I can. Gung-ho Gilligan takes off for second. His legs are much shorter than mine and he only has a lead of about 54 feet.

Gilligan knows where he needs to go, though, and intends to do his best to stay in front of the much bigger base runner behind him. He turns on the jets. His short legs work like pistons.

Gung-ho Gilligan, all of four feet tall, steams around third and motors across home plate safely. While I am resting on third, I hear an admiring comment float in from an opposing third grader playing the outfield.

“I mean that Gilligan can run.”

Loren Beachy is an auctioneer and real estate broker with Bright Star Realty and Auctions in Middlebury. He was formerly an elementary school teacher at a local parochial school teacher for eight years. Some of his stories were written a few years ago while teaching. He enjoys fast horses, hot peppers, and strong coffee.