It was the first gift given to us by Washington Elementary, and one of the most lasting. Plopped randomly on our mats behind her big wooden desk, Mrs. Strand stood before us. We all accessed this new situation. Some through tears. Others laughter. I looked around. Of all the boys and girls, David Holte was the only one from Van Dyke Road — surely an ally if I needed one. One eye remained on him, the other scanned the room. Everything was unfamiliar. Even this way of sitting, cross legged. For the past 90 days or so, I don’t remember even sitting. When the sun came up my legs began to move rapidly, only to come to a screeching halt as it set in the evening. Hands on my bent knees I marveled at how quick they were to obey. So ready to relinquish their bronze color. To give in to the lavender-white just around winter’s corner. My toes still jiggled, perhaps all hope was not lost. They kept time with my fluttering heart. What could she possibly give us, I thought, that was worth letting go of August. Then she asked the question — “What did you do over your summer vacation?” Thoughts were now audible. There was an excitement in the room. Sweaty thighs lifted above mats. Arms shot in the air. All of it danced above our heads — every lake splash, every bike ridden, baseballs soaring, car windows open, dogs barking, wagons pulled, Dairy Queens and Crazy Dayz on main street — all alive! How did she do it? Even with the windows closed and the door shut, everything got in. We still had everything. And when we shared, we had even more.
I won’t forget this gift she gave. (It’s not lost on me that it was indeed a “strand,” — one that connected us, and led us forward.) I use it every day.
August 15th sounds its warning of summer’s end. I miss how easily I used to jump from a cross legged position. I miss my mom. But, joyfully, it still all gets in. All the splashes of laughter and comforts of love. There is still so much more to learn. Days to welcome with fluttering toes and hearts. I’m ready — ready for more.
