A few days ago, I was going through Rose's school work with her, and something stopped me short. The teacher had given them the sentence: "My teacher, Ms. N., is _________ , because she ______________. Two points from the grammar gods if you caught what set my teeth on edge.

Ooh, that nasty little comma before because. No, no, no, no! "Because" is a subordinator. If you start a sentence with it, there's a comma after the subordinated clause like "Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me." If it's in the middle of the sentence, no comma. I have spent years with multi-colored legos teaching students this rule. I love this rule. It's a personal friend of mine. I am appalled to have it taught wrong.

I semi-gently told Rose her teacher had gotten it wrong. I spent a great deal of time ranting to everyone else about it, particularly because John was not backing me up. He thought I was being petty. (I have now figured out that what is really bothering me is I have no way of approaching the teacher with this. I can't think of way of doing it that will not embarrass her or make me look like a petty jerk.)

Tonight at dinner I was once again making my case to the in-laws. I thought Rose was out of hearing. She came back to the dining room with Zen Shorts, a book my friend Nancy had given her a couple of years ago. With a twinkle in her eye, she said, "Read this story Mommy, and think about the commas." I read the story thinking I was supposed to see where the commas were placed in the sentences. They looked ok to me. Then I realized she wanted me to take the story as a lesson. I read it again and laughed with glee.

Here's a version of the story:

Two traveling monks reached a river where they met a young woman. Wary of the current, she asked if they could carry her across. One of the monks hesitated, but the other quickly picked her up onto his shoulders, transported her across the water, and put her down on the other bank. She thanked him and departed.

As the monks continued on their way, the one was brooding and preoccupied. Unable to hold his silence, he spoke out. "Brother, our spiritual training teaches us to avoid any contact with women, but you picked that one up on your shoulders and carried her!"

"Brother," the second monk replied, "I set her down on the other side, while you are still carrying her."



She wanted me to set it down, let it go, zen it out. She was giving me really good advice in a kind, gentle way. She made a huge cognitive leap putting my kvetching and this story together. Her attitude amazed and humbled me.

Unfortunately, my reaction freaked her out. She thought I was laughing at her or mad at her and she ran up to her room and cried for quite a while before I figured out what was going on and praised her up and down.