Not Quite a Party

Okay. Picture us in costumes. And masks. 

It was the most exciting two months of my life!

And it just kept getting better!

Maybe I should explain . . .

I was five, turning six.

And, finally, that day of days arrived.

That day I’d been looking forward to since . . . I had learned to look forward to . . . things.

I got to go to school with my older brothers and sister.

Surely the best of times.

First school supplies and lunch box.

First bus ride.

First time walking into the new school. (And it was new. We were the first grade one class to actually start there . . .)

First teacher.

First friends.

First enemies.

First lessons.

First mistakes.

First heart-stopping successes.

And then, first time planning a Halloween party.

School just kept getting better and better.

We would have treats and games and more treats and more games.

And be able to dress up.

Mom was right. School was the best place on earth to be.

And to make things even better, our class was going to have a second party.

At our teacher’s home!

Wow!

Okay, I should probably explain, here, that there was no second party at Miss Woronoski’s home. I really don’t know where I got that idea.

And it was mine alone.

Mom dropped us kids off to go trick-or-treating (Moms did that in 1960) and we happily started in.

After a few minutes of knocking on doors and collecting treats, we got to my teacher’s boarding house. Bursting with excitement, I knocked on the door. The lady there was nice and gave us some treats. Then I explained that I was there for the party with Miss Woronoski. She looked rather puzzled, but shrugged and nodded and let me in.

Miss Woronoski wasn’t there. She was out with friends.

But I was welcome to wait.

So I did.

For hours.

Okay, I was six, so it was probably only a few minutes.

When Miss Woronoski finally arrived, she was, justifiably, confused to find one of her students waiting in her sitting room for a party that existed only in the child’s mind.

But she was sweet about it.

And did her best to entertain me until my Mom showed up.

Then she ushered me out the door, whispering words of comfort and sympathy and encouragement in my little ears.

Lest you feel sorry for me, please know I really didn’t miss out on anything that night.

I collected plenty of treats, as well as a couple of hugs from a wonderful teacher.

And isn’t that what Halloween is all about?

Almost ready to go.