WAITING FOR SUMMER
It has been a long time since the days when I waited anxiously for the coming of summer. More than Christmas, those first warm days of May promised freedom and the cutting of every nerve that held us to the school. For the coming of the days of no scheduled work, no expectation, no deadlines and no grade card to fear.
I pitied then those who, like me now, spent every season behind the same walls, the same windows. Who shut out the sweet, warm air in the same way they blocked the bitter cold of winter.
That anticipation of long, unbroken leisure is almost unimaginable now, but I must one time have promised myself never to forget it and never to hate it.