The Sage

All the kids screamed out of delight “Yay! Its break time!” The grass was glittering with dew, the sun shone high and the snow covered what looked like grass. The kids were herded bad to the classroom. Time moved slowly with the ticking of the clock, the moving of pencils, and the crying of kindergarteners at the lunch table. I might have been a recluse when I first moved to Macedonia, but then a sage came and spoke wise words. The words reverberated in my head and eventually I made great friends.

The day ends with shouts from teachers, “It’s the last day of school so quickly get in your bus or cars!” The cars start moving along the pavement, bus doors slam shut…oh wait, there was only one bus. Then things went amiss. My teacher the one who taught me the first grade closed the bus door. I waved goodbye, no respond but footsteps fading away. What had happened impelled me to question her actions. Did she see me? Did she ignore me? Was I abhorrent to her? The questions were interminable, until I came to a profound conclusion. Oh…maybe she hates me! Today was the last day of school! How could you not wave goodbye on the last day? I became despondent and said to myself “She just didn’t see it.” trying to comfort myself. (I know, pathetic right?)

I just thought that I’d never see her again, she was always nice and positive even though my class only had four people. (Including me.) It was a fun year, she was an affable person. She wasn’t irascible, she never had to entreat anyone in class and I just wanted to sum it up with a nice goodbye…I suppose I should’ve said goodbye before it was time to leave. Even though I eventually got over it, it haunted me to the very last minute it could. Like a tirade given by some guy I didn’t even know, and my tremulous arms were at my side. Yes…I don’t like it when I can’t say goodbye or when others don’t say goodbye, that’s just part of who I am.