I was excited and apprehensive. My last day in school. My mom had brushed and curled my long hair in the most gorgeous ponytail with a huge ribbon. She made a huge basket for me adorned with the most incredible ribbons. In all her quietness, she always made me look good.
The students in my class all stood up and sang songs of praise to me. It was a proud moment for me. Many students had brought small gifts that would all be included in our "treasure chest" that was to be shipped off to the States. The most impressive gift that will always stand out in my mind was a crayon drawing I received. It had been drawn by one of the parents. It was cover in black and then etched. I thought it was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. For one, we did not have crayons available to us. But, how he had done the art work was just incredible, at least to this 8 year-old.
I then went from room to room accompanied by another student. I guess, she was to carry anything that might overload my basket.
All the teachers were very tolerant in a very strict environment. Looking back, I realized they all knew I was off to another land. I got notebooks, pencils, erasers. I was so delighted with my gifts, enough to take them with me.
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