Oaks and Acorns
I was never sure why the big six-foot senior football players were afraid to break the rules at school. Whether it was from the stern tone of Mrs. Turner’s rebuke, “Are you boys supposed to be out here?” Or maybe it was fear of the long knotty switch she carried, which was always an added measure of insurance to listen and do as expected. We very seldom saw Mrs. Turner without that switch. The big tall switch bush was right outside her window. No one wanted to hear those dreaded words, “Go get me a switch!” It was understood, if a whipping was given at school, then another was to be expected upon arriving home. I never could figure out how our parents knew about what happened at school by the time we got home, seeing as, no one owned a telephone in the neighborhood. Mrs. Turner’s favorite words were always, “This is going to hurt me worse than it does you.” From the looks of those big burly looking seniors, with tears rolling down their faces, I never really believed it was the truth. Everyone in our small community attended the same elementary school under the tall grand oak trees. Grades one through eight were all housed in the same building. I can still smel
Mrs. T. met us in the hallway and began to talk to me very softly. “Now baby,” she said, “you know you like coming to school. Mommy will be back in a while, just like she always does. Come on, let’s go get you some ice cream.” Well, she didn’t have to say ice cream but once. I got up, brushed my tears away and went to the cafeteria to get my treat. Even having my friends laugh at my childish display was worth ice cream, I thought. Mrs. T. would always call a bunch of other children’s names. My father and every other parent who had grown up in our neighborhood had attended this same segregated school. Mrs. Turner had been his teacher when he was in elementary school also. The school had become the monument of the entire community, and Mrs. Turner was greatly respected. She taught us in the first grade that the word Elon I remember hugging Mrs. T. tightly, smelling that lavender perfume, and kissing her soft wrinkled face. She would often giggle and act surprised when I would sneak up behind her, cover her eyes with my tiny hands and say, “Guess who?”
Some topics in this essay:
School Turner,
Acorns Oaks,
Elon Greek,
elementary school,
school turner,
ice cream,
cold winter,
oak trees,
peppermint candy,
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Approximate Word count = 1242
Approximate Pages = 5 (250 words per page double spaced)
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