Childhood Gone
Let us take a small trip in the Wayback Machine shall we? To the spring of '98 where we spot a little trouble maker, roughly thirteen years old, breaking rocks with other trouble makes. A group of children who stare at the adult next to them as they spend their time turning big rocks into little ones with sledge hammers. Now I know what you are thinking and it's very true. This is me in Junior High. Webster Intermediate to be exact. And the breaking rocks, well if you asked me teacher (like I did) she would tell you it was training for the future. But really it was an important part of cleaning up a small little not so grassy area across from the library.
The point of this was all for a class project. In the first semester the class designed I nice little garden in which the students could relax and read and what not and in the second semester the grunt work began. We had to tear up that poor excuse for land and make it pretty. Almost too much to handle. But by the end of the school year that grass was green and even, the flowers were pretty, those wooden criss cross things had vines all over them and we even had a little pond with a little waterfall. The place kicked the butt. Then I left the school and went to high school.
The only time I had a chance to go check on the garden was a few years later but was stopped by a teacher because I didn't belong there. Nuts to him. Even caught me going the long way around. And soon I forgot all about it and never again laid eyes on. Well a couple days ago a friend and I were driving around and doing errands when we passed what used to be Webster Intermediate. That's right, it even has a new damn name. So I yell at him to pull into the parking lot as I get all excited. On the edge of my seat I almost sprint from the car as he parked to find..... One tree.
One. Stupid. Tree.
To say I was upset was an understatement.
The point of this was all for a class project. In the first semester the class designed I nice little garden in which the students could relax and read and what not and in the second semester the grunt work began. We had to tear up that poor excuse for land and make it pretty. Almost too much to handle. But by the end of the school year that grass was green and even, the flowers were pretty, those wooden criss cross things had vines all over them and we even had a little pond with a little waterfall. The place kicked the butt. Then I left the school and went to high school.
The only time I had a chance to go check on the garden was a few years later but was stopped by a teacher because I didn't belong there. Nuts to him. Even caught me going the long way around. And soon I forgot all about it and never again laid eyes on. Well a couple days ago a friend and I were driving around and doing errands when we passed what used to be Webster Intermediate. That's right, it even has a new damn name. So I yell at him to pull into the parking lot as I get all excited. On the edge of my seat I almost sprint from the car as he parked to find..... One tree.
One. Stupid. Tree.
To say I was upset was an understatement.