The last day of school was a joyous affair. The halls were buzzing with the promise of summer vacation starting in just a few hours. The teachers were dressed in tie-dye shirts and the kids were already in summer play clothes. The academics were over: kids cleaned out their desks and carried home brown bags of old papers and partially used notebooks. (I myself brought home a box of discarded books from the music room).
The morning assembly was a talent show at which my little friend performed on his Rubic’s cube: first solving it in under a minute after someone else had scrambled it, and then making other patterns behind his back (an H, a checkerboard, a dot, etc) all the while he was beating his timer. There was a genuine ‘Ahhh’ of appreciation for his talent from his peers. I was happy for him to be recognized for his strengths.
But then, the big moment we all awaited: the final bell. The drums rolled out and the kids boarded buses to whistles and bells and air horns and drums. The principal went up and down the buses high-fiving the arms sticking out. It was so exciting –the atmosphere in the air—that the buses took longer to leave than usual. Finally we cried, “Move that bus!” (in the spirit of the TV show) and they rolled away.
Yippee! Summer is here!