I brought the younger ones to school with me yesterday. I was to speak at the local Primary school about St. Andrew’s Day, so I thought I’d bring them along to see what a Scottish school was like.
I told them I’d visit with the Head Teacher about a good time to bring them in to stay for a couple of hours. But, during the assembly the HT introduced them, asked their ages and then sent them into the crowd to join their respective peers. The three of them, Elsabeth, David, and Jessie, looked a bit nervous, but went along with it, getting more than they bargained for on our little outing.
Remembering the trauma of my own all day “visit” to the local school during one of our family trips to Scotland I ached for them, tossed alive into a swirling pack of gibbering Scottish youth.
However, they seem to have fared better than I did.
As I left the school childless I looked out and saw Jessie skipping through the playground with an entourage of little girls scampering behind her. She was holding court and loving every minute of it.
David and Elisabeth had similar experiences. “Dad, a couple of kids started talking to me and then the whole class was crowded around me.”
“When can we go back?” they all clamored.
To be continued.