Back In Time: New Year, New Kids, NO Tears


A. Asher, Senior Staff Writer, Editor

Memories and past experiences are often looked upon as if you can’t experience them again. Well, what if I tell you that re-living your memories is possible?

It’s actually not that hard. Remembering and experiencing the same feelings you had once,  even when you were a child, can help you achieve what you have been wanting to re-live for so long.

To help you achieve this, let me give you my own past experience when I was at Red Oak Elementary, at the beginning of the school.

When I had just started my journey as an ROISD student, I remember my parents dropping me off for school for the first day at Kindergarten. As I  counted my steps to the classroom destined for me, I was filled with joy thinking I had finally become a responsible boy at the age of six.

I stopped for a moment and looked at the classroom filled with colors and the alphabet posters that hung in each corner. With all the courage I could muster I stepped into the classroom, and going on my Mom’s advice, I prayed to G-d to give me a “swell” school day. As soon as I finished my personal prayer for guidance, I was greeted by a joyous teacher whom I would later know as Mrs.Partin.

She requested  that I sit on one of the soft and “comfy” chairs. So I ran along with other students who were around my age as I sat like a king on the couch. I pulled a book out of the mini-library and tried to read, with slow progress.

After a few minutes I heard loud wailing and thrashing like someone was having a fit. So, I looked up and saw a boy who had dark hair, white-skin, and as far as I can remember green eyes. “I don’t wanna leave” he repeated over and over again. After about 30 minutes of whining and wailing, he finally gave up and stepped into the classroom with a heavy tantrum. He walked over and stood alone, with many kids running around the whole classroom.

“Hey, you want to sit on this ‘comfy’ couch?” I called to him. Slowly, but surely he walked over and I moved from the couch to a not-so-comfortable chair. I waited for him to cool down and I held out my hand and said, “Do you want to be friends?”

He paused, stared at me with a stubborn-looking face, and then shook my hand. “My name is Ariel,”I said. “What’s your name?”

“My is Lance.”