THE CHRONICLES OF SCHOOL: FIRST GRADE
It was the first day of first grade at St. Edmund Elementary School and it was a bright, sunny-September morning. Our version of a clan leader ordered the local census taker to tally who was and who was not present whilst we minions were ordered to practice our cave drawing skills and visually expressing ourselves with the local art media that was provided for us â€“ namely, paper, water color paints and brushes.
After awhile we were all summoned to seek out and establish a comfortable location on the magic carpet that sprawled across the floor. As a hush cascaded down over the fish pond of fidgeting young heads, darkness slinked in behind us. The remaining lightsâ€™ created a bell shaped theatrical-like spotlight on the chair-like throne in front of and slightly towering over us. After another moment a figure appeared and gracefully floated down on to the throne, opened up a rectangular-shaped, handheld wooden object and began to spew forth a menagerie of sounds and motions.
As we began to relate to the characters and lose ourselves in the woods of Narnia as our version of the White Queen read to us at the edge of our magic carpet; the principal and the other school administrators â€“ perhaps overcome by Aslanâ€™s spirit â€“ had created a disturbance in order to liberate us from the magical incantations that were verbally showering over us.
Suddenly, a strange wale permeated the snowy passageways. We grouped together and slinked out the archway and cautiously crept to the edge of the path. Whilst my companions cowardly stopped to check the path around the corner, I valiantly leaped and charged around the corner only to be ambushed by flames made of paper. A friendly druid was there to communicate to me through the use of flag signals that all was okay but that I had to retrace my steps and join my clan back at the corner.
My cheeks were as red and hot as a blazing fire as we hastily retreated down the other pathway and out the side gates to join with the other clans of the land. There in the relatively safety of the streets, we congregated and awaited the signal of peace that would indicate to us that we could venture back to our dungeons and resume what we were doing.
Upon our return to our clan cavern, our clan leader declared that it was time for us to sit in our designated areas and begin to learn the traditional symbols and sounds that enable our clans to communicate within our own clan; as well as, with other clans. As the lesson progressed, one fellow clan-mate next to me took it upon himself to remind me of and administrating punishment, in the form of a series of unpleasant comments and a few hard kicks to the shin, for the mistake I made by not stopping at the corner earlier. I brought the matter before the clan leader fortunately the few declarative sentences she administered to my clan-mate were all that were needed to resolve this problem.
The rest of the school clan time passed uneventfully. On the way home from school, a couple of clan-mates and I were walking along one of the pathways towards home. There is a point where a portion of the main pathway connects with a side pathway but there is a rather large bush right at the juncture which makes it difficult to see if somebody is coming along the other path.
As my friends and I were approaching that point, we saw a small group of children congregated at that spot; there was a young girl on the ground. As we approached we saw that she had a long tire mark on her left inside leg. She was resting her hands on either side of it and crying a great deal. We ran up to see if we could help. An older student had been riding his bicycle at a very fast speed and had turned the corner at the moment this girl was there. The rider ran into her and had not stopped.
â€œWhat can be done to prevent this?â€� I asked the group in general. â€œPerhaps we can place a Stop sign at the corner?â€� One boy suggested. â€œPerhaps we should ask someone to cut or move the bush?â€� Another girl said. â€œThatâ€™s probably the better idea.â€� I said, â€œBut who is responsible for this bush?â€� â€œLetâ€™s go up to each house here and see if someone will help us.â€� the boy said. â€œOkay, let us go together,â€�I said. So we went up to the houses on either side of the bush and the people there agreed to contact someone who will come and dig up this bush and perhaps plant it somewhere else where it wonâ€™t be in the way.