Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: The Game of Life (09/11/08)
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TITLE: My First Day at School | Previous Challenge Entry
By Wanda Mayhall
09/17/08 -
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Now, let's go back sixty years. You can't? That's okay. Picture your grandmother as she entered the classroom for her very first time. Maybe she looked a bit like me. My brown hair hung in braids on each side of my face, with short bangs over my dark brown eyes. I was tall for my age and skinny. I wore suspenders.
The building was large and built of red brick, with heavy double doors at the entry. As I walked through those doors, I knew my life would never be the same.
Standing in a wide hallway, I heard a rush of footsteps, each pair of shoes going somewhere only their owners knew where. My feet knew nothing. My legs wouldn't move. I heard a bell rang. The hall emptied. I was left with a hot liquid froming inside my eyelids. I tried to hold it there, but against my will I felt an overflow. Tears ran down my cheeks and dropped off my jaw bone. I stood quietly holding my book satchel when I heard someone ask, "what's your name?"
I would have answered, but at that moment I did not know. The lady put her hand on my shoulder. "Can I see your book satchel?" she asked.
I nodded. It gave her permission.
She looked at the front of my red plaid satchel. "Is your name Wanda Jean?"
Again I shook my head yes.
"Come." She took my hand and led me into the bathroom. With gentle hands, she washed and dried my face. "You're such a pretty girl," she told me. Those words took away the fear I felt in the bottom of my stomach. "I'm going to take you to your room. Mrs. Snow is your teacher." She took my hand. We walked down the middle of a wide hall.
"Wanda, this is Mrs. Snow."
"Good morning Wanda," Mrs. Snow smiled. Her blue eyes were eager, "let me take you to your desk."
I looked into the room and saw thirty-two eyes staring at me. The expression on those sixteen faces said, "dummy."
I followed this plump lady, with gray hair, to the center of the room. "This is yours," she pointed to a small desk. I slid into it. I was seeking a hiding place. The teacher took my book satchel, opened it, and placed its contents on the desk top. Then she lay the satchel on a shelf under my seat. In front of me lay paper, pencils, easer, crayons, paste and a lunch bag with my name on it. "I'll put your lunch on the shelf," she told to me. The shelf was in the front of the room. Other lunches were sitting there. I did not care, I wasn't hungry.
The next thing I remember I heard a bell rang. Children got out of their desks, walked to the door and out into the hall. I thought about the bus that brought me to school and feared I was being left behind.
Out the door, down the hall I ran. The double doors were open. I ran as fast as I could through the doors, across the porch, down the steps. I searched for the bus that'd brought me, saw it and leaped forward. I was flying when I jumped onto the first step. No one was there! I did not stop until I'd secured a seat. I waited. Time passed. No one came. I knew I was not leaving my ride home. Then, I heard footsteps. Someone was walking toward me. "Are you lost?" a man asked.
"No," I answered bravely, "I'm going home."
"It's not time to go home," he explained, "this is recess."
"Recess?" I didn't understand.
He smiled, "this is a time for you to go to the playground and play."
"Oh," I was surprised, "where do I go?" I asked. This interested me.
"Come, I'll take you." And he took me to the largest playground I'd ever seen. Double slides, merry-go-rounds and swings. Mrs. Snow found me. She smiled, "it's okay," she said.
The thought of not belonging, soon became one of longing, longing to know everything and everyone.
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