viagra online viagra online viagra online without prescription generic viagra viagra online viagra online viagra online without prescription generic viagra

“School Days, School Days, Good ‘Ole’ Golden Rule Days…”

This week, as children throughout Berkshire County went back to school after the long summer vacation, my thoughts traveled back through time.

It was more decades ago than I care to count.

My four sisters and I attended Bartlett School (now converted into condominiums) which was a hop, skip and a jump down the street from our old homestead.

My earliest memories go all the way back to a kindergarten classroom. Imagine that!

It was the last room on the right in the big brick building. The huge old windows looked out to Onota Street.

Mrs. Fuller was the kindergarten teacher. While I cannot picture her face, I know she had gray hair and was on the portly side. 

She was a combination of sweet and tough.  She played the piano while her little charges sang!

There were three things in that first classroom that stick in my mind like soft taffy. One was a dollhouse. Maybe that was my introduction to a hobby I still enjoy today.

Secondly, a sandbox stood in a corner, to the delight of the children, and thirdly, there were small multi-colored wooden chairs.

The floors in the hallways of Bartlett School glistened and a bell rang out in startling precision when it was time for lunch or recess. Its deafening ring made me jump more than once.

It’s so amazing how our earliest memories of school days remain with us even as we enter a later stage of life.

Mrs. Bonneville was the first grade teacher. She kept a pair of wooden shoes on her desk, probably a souvenir from a European trip.

She was a tall woman with a gentle manner about her.

Once, on April Fool’s Day, she was able to play jokes on just about every student in the class except me.

However, when she excitedly brought attention to the first robin, outside the classroom window, I bolted from my seat to get a look.

“April fool,” Mrs. Bonneville said and the rest of the class began to laugh.  As I peered  through the window at the bare tree branches outside, I was busted. There was no robin to be seen at all.

Miss Barrett was the second grade teacher. She was an elderly woman who taught school for a long, long time. She was quite strict and demanded order and good behavior in her classroom with no questions asked.

We used to play a game where one student stood with her back to the class while something was hidden.

One day, when I was the student with my back to the class, I failed to close my eyes and could see from a reflection in a glass fronted cabinet, exactly where the item was being hidden.

When Miss Barrett told me to turn around and start guessing where the object was hidden, my sense of rigid honesty took over.Instead of guessing, I started bawling my head off.

I felt so guilty for peeking at the reflection instead of closing my eyes. There would be no guessing when I knew exactly where the object had been hidden.

That day I learned a good lesson—keep my eyes closed while playing the “hide and find” game.

Today when I think about that little girl, tears streaming down her face, it makes me laugh. Children are so innocent and vulnerable.

The janitor at Bartlett School in those days was Mr. Dolan. He was a tall, thin man with white hair and he was always kind to the students. I used to feel sorry for him when he had to clean up after students got sick and threw up their lunches on the shiny wooden floors.

However, Mr. Dolan never complained. He’d bring his big mop and bucket and get to work. It was all in a day’s work for him.

Naturally, when I think back on those early school days, my parents come to mind. My mother always bought us new outfits for the first day of school. It was also exciting to get new pencil boxes. Inside the sliding drawers of the boxes were pencils with sharpened tips and hard, pink erasers.  Most boxes had rulers, too.

My father, of course, worked long hours at menial labor to support his large family of five girls and a wife.

Whenever anyone asked him if he had sons, he’d always say, “Nope, it’s just me and the cat.”

Both of my parents drilled the importance of getting an education into our heads. There was no choice about going to school or to church. Both were expected of us until we left their house.

Today, I don’t even like driving by the house where we grew up because it’s too sad. I always try to take another route to get to my destination.

When  driving  by, however,  I almost expect to see my Mom on the front porch, waving as we skip down the front sidewalk.

 I can still feel my heart beating rapidly as I face that first day at school. 

Daddy’s there, too, rumbling out of the driveway in his old truck after he tells us to be good and pay attention to the teacher.

This year, on the first day of school, my little granddaughter, not quite a year old, arrived at our house shortly after 7 a.m.

Her parents, both teachers, were happy to leave their little doll baby with Grammie and Grammie was pretty happy about it, too.

Before  we all know it, she’ll be getting a new outfit for kindergarten.  She’ll probably have a new IPod to replace yesterday’s pencil box!

However, she’ll still hear the message of how important education is, to be a good girl and listen to the teacher.

The beat,and the years, go on and life is good!

 

Share This Post

Google1DeliciousDiggGoogleStumbleuponRedditTechnoratiYahooBloggerMyspaceRSS
Posted by on September 5, 2013. Filed under From the Heart. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry
viagra online viagra online viagra online without prescription generic viagra viagra online generic viagra accutane buy phentermine viagra online viagra online viagra online without prescription generic viagra