Noon Spool

Second Grade

by: Edward Scott Cummings

Love is a flower that decorates the scenery of our lives. The variety of bloom and fragrance never ends. The empty place in our soul, as real as the chambers within the material heart, begs to be filled with life’s bouquet of love.

Warm in the sea of love provided by parents, it permeates us. Blind, total, unconditional love is given to us as children, as it should be. We return it with interest, the excess spilling over to brothers, sisters, pets, and friends. Pure as crystal mountain water, love flows unbounded from the heart of our young soul.

There comes a time when the love tree produces a new flower, perfect and fragile. The bud forms for no apparent reason and emits a fragrance never dreamed before. As the first tentative petals emerge it is easy to get lost in the sheer beauty of it. This flower is different though; it must be shared with another. When two souls gaze together, magic is real, and nothing else is.

When I was six years old there was a girl that became my first love. What was the spark I felt when I looked at her? How did I decide that I loved her? She was pretty, but not the prettiest. Kind of shy. Perfect. Cupid shot me, an easy target. I wanted to be with her so when we lined up for chapel, I casually got in line every day either in front of her or behind her. We happened to be sitting next to each other in chapel, surprise, surprise. I was more shy than her, so I said nothing. I loved her from afar, as I tried to sit closer so our legs could touch.

My secret plan was foiled one day. I was too casual in claiming my place in line, and lost it to a possible rival. Bigger than me, and meaner, he was out to steal my love. The bully pushed me to the floor, then stood over me, fists on hips: No cutting. Smirking, he turned to my chosen and squashed his body against her in line. Pig. Humbled, I rose to my feet and found the end of the line. Tears hot behind my eyes I fell into place, seeing nothing.

Why was life so cruel? How had I lost what I never even had? Vainly I cursed myself for not having spoken up. She didn’t even know that I loved her. She never would because I would have to fight for that spot in line, and I was not a fighter. Life is tough in the second grade. How I wished for another chance.

Blind in my misery, I felt but did not see a disturbance behind me. Probably someone else bumping me out of line. My exposed weakness would act as raw meat to the other boys. Enough was enough! I would fight for this spot in line; I had to make a stand. Gathering my nerve, I whirled around to see my opponent; I would show them!

I was knocked senseless. Blindsided. It was her: Candy. Shocked, I turned to the front. When we got to chapel I whispered that I loved her. She whispered back “I love you.” Together we watched the flower bloom, breathed the intoxicating fragrance, loved.

posted by Tim @ 8:09 AM