Back to School

Back to school again as summer fades into autumn. Leaves on our backyard maple are still green, but east on the mountains I see glimples of red and gold. I've loved this day all seasons of my life.
SEASON ONE: A girl with frizzy curls wearing a plaid dress and squeaky new shoes jumps in an old black Ford. It's her first day in first grade. She didn't go to preschool or kindergarten. She's scared and excited to learn to read with Dick and Jane and Sally and Puff. Her dad drives her to a country school and he stays the whole day. He's the sixth grade teacher/principal there.
SEASON TWO: Twenty-five chattering third graders troop into a classroom, excited to meet their new teacher. She's fresh out of college, enthusiastic, and scared. No computers, no videos, no CD"s in this classroom, only a 16 mm projecter she doesn't know how to thread.
SEASON THREE: A happy/sad, scared young mom watches as her four children dressed in jeans and T-shirts march out the door. Their backpacks are stuffed with pencils, crayons, and apples for their new teachers. Moments later a neighbor drops by. "I'll stay with your new baby so you can walk to school with your kids," the neighbor offers. The mom smiles and hurries off to school again.
SEASON FOUR: Loaded with textbooks, syllabi, and class lists, a backpack rolls into a classroom. The professor looks into eager adult faces, faces of someday teachers and hears their stories. Some are fresh from high school, others from real life at great sacrifice. They're all scared, but they'll learn from each other. They dared the first day.