As I checked my son's papers from school one night last week, I found one paper with a failing grade. I almost jumped out of my chair. I started to call his name when I suddenly realized he was in bed asleep. It didn't matter because this was only his second year of school. But I was angry. I put the paper aside and turned to the next one. "My Dad" was written on the top of the page. It was a poem about me. His poem included the time I had to leave work to take him to the doctor because he had broken his finger. I had forgotten about that. He talked about a few other things he liked that I did. That paper with the failing grade was suddenly not as important as it had been just a few minutes earlier. I didn't know if he put the poem next to the failing grade in order to make me feel better, but it worked. Instead of punishing him, I talked to him about the poem as well as the failed exam. I began to get that I could give him praise along with criticism (批评) . I got the idea from the poem I read.
