5th grade st. patrick's day started off normally. i put on my green t-shirt and went to school. unlike st. valentines day, we didn't trade anything at school except the obligatory pinch if you came to school unadorned in the green, which no self respecting kid ever did.
but after first recess that day as we all returned to our seats the kids were all laughing and pointing at poor ricky velasquez sitting across the classroom clutching a handful of grass and panting like a frightened animal. apparently nobody at ricky's house had clued him the night before like my mom had, taking care to make sure my green t-shirt had been laid out. and as he showed up to school that morning his heart must have sunk, and then grown cold with fear as all of the kids began to realize one by one that he was open game. the hunt was on. fortunately for ricky he was small and pretty fast. and he used the entire recess field like a chess board, darting and dodging and then even after picking up the blades of grass, screaming.
but as he sat now at his desk still breathing hard, our wise teacher strode across the floor saying not a word even while chuckles could still be heard. she bent down and revealed a construction paper shamrock she had just cut out. she pinned it to ricky's shirt and put her hand out to take the blades of grass. and by so doing redeemed him. st. patrick returned to ireland to spread the good news of the gospel which i never saw evidenced better than that day in 5th grade.
19 hours ago
1 comment:
Aww, that was cute. Good story. =)
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