I was a fifth-grade student at the International School of Brussels, Belgium. The school was fun because the subjects were most interesting. I also loved its location, on top of a hill with lovely, seemingly wild gardens and the smells of fall, a mysterious potpourri of scents carried by the wind all about. I loved the wind as it washed my skin as we climbed up the hill at the start of the day, and going down the hill when school was over. I thought then that the International School of Brussels was the most beautiful and captivating school of all the schools I had ever been to. And as the daughter of a diplomat, I had attended seven of them. Seven different grade schools in seven different countries.
After school, there was always this unfailing anticipation rushing through my heart that the day would end fantastically. This is because my sister Terrie and I would drop off our school books in our home on posh Franklin Roosevelt Avenue, then take a short walk to Bois de la Cambre, a historic park in Belgium. The park was located behind, but parallel to where we lived on Franklin Roosevelt street, and it was just a short walk away. The winds became magical hugs and for a child in grade school, Boix de la Cambre was enchanting.
I've never been to Central Park in New York, but I bet it doesn't have that storytelling nature of Boix de la Cambre. In the fall we would sit on the perfectly manicured grass on an even wider field of green and stare at the pond, where there were swans, ducks, and geese floating past. There were also tiny rowboats.
I never tried to ask if I could ride a boat because I always presumed it was too expensive. I rarely asked for anything when I was young because nothing I liked seemed to be important. At least, nothing that I ever asked for. I could hear my mother's sharp "No" whenever I asked for anything. There were five children to feed in our family. The youngest child would be born 11 years after me, making her the sixth. So I never asked for anything that I truly wanted. And many times, I made myself not want anything at all.
One day some friends of Terrie were riding a boat and they invited her to join them, so she did. I never asked her how the boat ride was because at that time we were with Terrie's friend Sherrie Walsworth and her younger brother. Sherrie looked a bit strange, the kind of girl that the mean girls at school would pick on. She had a head of curly brown hair, and her eyes were hidden by very thick eyeglasses that, from outside seemed to be magnifying glasses, making her eyes look bigger than they were. And her lips were full. I imagine Sherrie became a great beauty as an adult, but in grade school, she just didn't fit in because of her looks.
First Terrie got into the boat, then Sherrie. But in getting into the boat her foot slipped into the water up to her ankle. Someone told her to get off of the boat, so she did. As Terrie rode with her friends, Sherrie's younger brother kept talking and talking to her, as though he was trying to cheer her up because he knew that she felt bad. I was very quiet because I think as a child I was emotionally challenged. I knew he was trying very hard to cheer his sister up. I couldn't understand why, but it interested me that he cared about her and was protective of her.
Sheree's brother made it a game to get sticks that were floating near the edge of the pond. He'd use another stick to get it. He went on and on and I looked around me. Suddenly there was a huge splash. He had fallen into the pond up to his waist. He simply got out of the pond and we continued to watch and wait until Terrie came back from her boat ride.
Finally, the boat approached the dock. Sherrie was trying to get the rope to tie the boat to a post. She also yelled at her brother to help. In trying to get the rope, Sherrie fell into the pond head first. I saw it and she looked so comical, landing in the pond head first, followed by her rubber shoe on her leg flying over her head. Splash.
Sometimes things happen in threes. First, Sherrie's ankle was caught in the water, making one of the girls tell her to get off the boat. Then her brother fell into the pond up to his waist. And finally, Sherrie fell in head first, all in one afternoon. I laughed, which was a very unsympathetic thing to do. I really laughed. And then Sherrie cried.
Terrie consoled Sherrie and we brought her and her brother home. She let Sherrie take off her clothes and shower and loaned Sherrie her own clothes and her own jacket. This made Sherrie feel better. Her brother seemed relieved that Terrie was taking charge. Terrie gave Sherrie a bowl of warm soup. We stayed at home together until Sheree's parents came to pick her and her brother up.
I had no feeling, and at that time, it didn't bother me. But now, as a senior citizen, I realize that there was something emotionally wrong with me at that point in time of my life.
After school, there was always this unfailing anticipation rushing through my heart that the day would end fantastically. This is because my sister Terrie and I would drop off our school books in our home on posh Franklin Roosevelt Avenue, then take a short walk to Bois de la Cambre, a historic park in Belgium. The park was located behind, but parallel to where we lived on Franklin Roosevelt street, and it was just a short walk away. The winds became magical hugs and for a child in grade school, Boix de la Cambre was enchanting.
I've never been to Central Park in New York, but I bet it doesn't have that storytelling nature of Boix de la Cambre. In the fall we would sit on the perfectly manicured grass on an even wider field of green and stare at the pond, where there were swans, ducks, and geese floating past. There were also tiny rowboats.
I never tried to ask if I could ride a boat because I always presumed it was too expensive. I rarely asked for anything when I was young because nothing I liked seemed to be important. At least, nothing that I ever asked for. I could hear my mother's sharp "No" whenever I asked for anything. There were five children to feed in our family. The youngest child would be born 11 years after me, making her the sixth. So I never asked for anything that I truly wanted. And many times, I made myself not want anything at all.
One day some friends of Terrie were riding a boat and they invited her to join them, so she did. I never asked her how the boat ride was because at that time we were with Terrie's friend Sherrie Walsworth and her younger brother. Sherrie looked a bit strange, the kind of girl that the mean girls at school would pick on. She had a head of curly brown hair, and her eyes were hidden by very thick eyeglasses that, from outside seemed to be magnifying glasses, making her eyes look bigger than they were. And her lips were full. I imagine Sherrie became a great beauty as an adult, but in grade school, she just didn't fit in because of her looks.
First Terrie got into the boat, then Sherrie. But in getting into the boat her foot slipped into the water up to her ankle. Someone told her to get off of the boat, so she did. As Terrie rode with her friends, Sherrie's younger brother kept talking and talking to her, as though he was trying to cheer her up because he knew that she felt bad. I was very quiet because I think as a child I was emotionally challenged. I knew he was trying very hard to cheer his sister up. I couldn't understand why, but it interested me that he cared about her and was protective of her.
Sheree's brother made it a game to get sticks that were floating near the edge of the pond. He'd use another stick to get it. He went on and on and I looked around me. Suddenly there was a huge splash. He had fallen into the pond up to his waist. He simply got out of the pond and we continued to watch and wait until Terrie came back from her boat ride.
Finally, the boat approached the dock. Sherrie was trying to get the rope to tie the boat to a post. She also yelled at her brother to help. In trying to get the rope, Sherrie fell into the pond head first. I saw it and she looked so comical, landing in the pond head first, followed by her rubber shoe on her leg flying over her head. Splash.
Sometimes things happen in threes. First, Sherrie's ankle was caught in the water, making one of the girls tell her to get off the boat. Then her brother fell into the pond up to his waist. And finally, Sherrie fell in head first, all in one afternoon. I laughed, which was a very unsympathetic thing to do. I really laughed. And then Sherrie cried.
Terrie consoled Sherrie and we brought her and her brother home. She let Sherrie take off her clothes and shower and loaned Sherrie her own clothes and her own jacket. This made Sherrie feel better. Her brother seemed relieved that Terrie was taking charge. Terrie gave Sherrie a bowl of warm soup. We stayed at home together until Sheree's parents came to pick her and her brother up.
I had no feeling, and at that time, it didn't bother me. But now, as a senior citizen, I realize that there was something emotionally wrong with me at that point in time of my life.
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