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My brother lives in Oregon and we e-mail several times a week and normally speak on the phone at least twice weekly. Our conversations touch on family activities and what's happening in business, politics, hunting and fishing.
But our conversations often contain a history quiz about our youth and growing up as we did in a much simpler time. If we were a radio show, it would be called, "Remember when ...?" It is funny what sticks in your mind from years ago. During one of our talks this past week, I reached back a long way for my story to share.
We were both raised as Catholics in Williamsburg and our local church always held a two-week summer Vacation Bible School after the regular school left out for the summer. Now, I might add that I personally objected to this infringement on what I considered my first actual personal vacation as I had just completed the first grade.
However, it seems as if first graders' opinions didn't carry much weight back then because I still found myself in class despite my spoken desire to be fishing.
In any event, things went along relatively smoothly and soon we were half done with only one week to go. It was then that I learned that there was to be a picnic with ice cream and games on the last day. Finally, something to look forward to. In addition to our classes and lessons, the Sisters had also passed out coloring books filled with religious drawings that they told us we could take home to color.
I took mine home, but after school when I had to decide to climb trees, go fishing or color, the coloring book came in last. Finally with just two days of school left, I had yet to color my first page.
I wasn't concerned because I thought I could always work on it later when the weather was bad as I didn't realize it was an assignment to be turned in. Next to the last day, the Sister announced we all had to bring our coloring books in on the last day as they would be judged and prizes awarded.
The next day, I figured I would just bite the bullet -- or in this case the crayon -- and admit I had not colored my book, but apparently the Sister had heard that story before and she told me I could not go to the picnic until my book was finished and I was to stay in while the other kids went outside.
So, as the other kids were yelling and playing games and eating ice cream, I was inside coloring my book. The book had about 12 pages with pictures to color on both sides. That was going to take a lot of time, so I decided if I just colored every other page it would be quicker and then I would just glue every other page together meaning my book would only have six pages, but I hoped the Sister would not notice. Actually, that might have worked if I had a thin glue.
Unfortunately the only glue available in the classroom was that old white heavy paste glue. When I was done gluing the pages together, my book was three times thicker than the others on the desk and must have weighed at least 2 pounds, not to mention the entire thing was a gooey mess.
I had just placed the book on the teacher's desk with the others just as the Sister came in to tell me I could stop coloring and go outside to play.
As far as I know, she didn't check my book until after we were dismissed outside.
My brother laughed and said he had no idea I was such a young troublemaker. He made it sound like I was a gang leader. All I know is if I get to heaven, I need to keep an eye out for that Sister because I am sure she has my coloring book in one hand and a ruler in the other.
John Kasun writes from his home in Duncansville where he keeps his crayons handy and his eyes peeled for a woman in a black and white outfit carrying a big coloring book.