8 years ago (as of Thursday) a wide-eyed and wobbly student went to his first opening sunday. Now, 6 opening sundays later, he went home again.
Today was an amalgam of hyper activity, early morning, sugary coffee, panicked parents, a zillion and one faces, rampant viruses, simple problems, odd troubles, sun and shade, bad lunch, missing CDs, green balloons, new phones, old questions, matching shirts, and thanks to The Trenchcoats in the car ride in this morning, ‘Jeremiah was a Bullfrog’ all day long. Oh, and it pays to wear a tag with your name on it as the CIO heard lots of good things about me today.
It’s done with, but I always remember the energy levels and the newness on everyone’s face. No matter how many of these I do, that fresh reaction from the new students inspires me to levels of bright helpfulness and endless enthusiasm for the job and the school. I’d like to give a word of thanks and praise to _anyone_ who has ever worked _any_ Opening Sunday, past, present, and future; here, or anywhere that has this coming of age ritual. It is all of you who make it everything it is, and make it something that people will always remember. You know who you are, so put on a smile, and remember the simple joys that come from helping little birds find their feet.
“Was a good friend of mine….”
