Friday, February 26, 2010

Imagine That! A Snow Day


Back in the day, and I don't mean "the good old days" either, those of us who lived in town had to walk to school. Busses were exclusively for transporting the country kids. It wasn't too bad for me because we lived only two blocks from the brick elementary school on Roanoke Avenue that would be my home away from home for six years.

One particular deep snowfall that left the whole town sleeping- caught off guard apparently, I got a reality check from dad at breakfast. Assuming that there would be a snow day from classes, I was playing with my cereal taking my sweet time.

"You had better bundle up today with your snow pants underneath your coat. Use those sandwich bags to line your boots just in case there are some deep drifts. I don't think the plowman has done the sidewalks yet," remarked dad while he started getting his overcoat on and wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"What?" School?"

Sometimes I seemed so innocent, and acted almost in disbelief for an eight year old.

"You have had perfect attendance this year so far, and I will walk you to make sure that you get to your classroom safely."

"But, dad. No one will be there! School will be closed."

There was no use arguing with dad,especially when it came to the merits of public education, and I put on my winter clothes. It was quite an adventure for a small tyke like me wading through the drifts, and a couple times dad had to pick me up and literally move me up and over so that I could get my footing again. Hardly anyone was in sight, and I was more certain than ever that I would be the sole kid in the entire school building!

Well, I was right. When dad and I got to my third grade classroom, Mrs. Coleman was so surprised when she looked up from her desk to see a student standing there. (Now it never occurred to me that my favorite teacher had a real home other than the classroom, but that will be the subject of another little story ).

"Why, Kay, look at you. I will mark you "present" for the day. You made the effort to come to school, and I think that is wonderful," exclaimed Mrs. Coleman.

I know that she had a whole lot of other glorious things to say about such an eager student trudging through mounds of snow to get an education-like an Abe Lincoln story, perhaps, but those words have been long forgotten.

After all that, dad and I went home. He was satisfied that he had made his point about education being his number one priority for his family. As for me, I could play at a snow day from school with no cares in the world.