Welcome to Awakenings

Life IS history in the making. Every word we say, everything we do becomes history the moment it is said or done. Life void of memories leaves nothing but emptiness. For those who might consider history boring, think again: It is who we are, what we do and why we are here. We are certainly individuals in our thoughts and deeds but we all germinated from seeds planted long, long ago.

Monday, September 1, 2014

Flashbacks & Reflections

At the close of the day today, the Labor Day holiday weekend will be over. Goodbye, summer! Even though in some places school doors opened before Labor Day, the beginning of the new school term will be in full swing, full speed ahead. Whether young or oldkindergarten, senior year of high school, or even collegethe atmosphere buzzes with enthusiasm from parent to child to teacher.

During the month of August, anticipation and apprehension began to swell as preparations and gatherings filled the weeks ahead for parents, teachers and students. Excitement over reuniting with friends away during the summer months expelled in giddiness as story after story of summer vacation aired. Apprehension over classmates, schedules and making the right choices, back to early morning alarm clocks, school bells and nightly homework may have at times created a more somber tone but never deterred any of the excitement. 

Flashbacks in time and reflections of one's self in the eyes of a child probably brought back memories of school days past...how things have changed from Grandpa's and Grandma's days. Within Awakenings is the opportunity to peer into the past and make connections that embrace those days and times long since passed. The accounts of early schooldays expose characteristics void of amenities common today. There was no electricity, running water, or telephone, and the restroom consisted of an outhouse in the back of the school yard. Can you imagine? Were you there?


An old privy or outhouse
(Photo credit: The Library of Congress)
Grandpa's School Days 

The scene, a late 1800s schoolhouse
Of character quite different from now
A one-room building was room enough
With honor and respect a solemn vow 

Grandpa strolled barefoot to school
Humming the summer blues
Often times walked in winter
Despite holes in his shoes

Not centrally heated or air controlled
A cast-iron stove burned wood or coal
Unfinished walls of hand-hewn logs
Revealed at least one bullet hole 

Atmosphere still, damp and dreary
Sought light through an open window
Brightness glowed from within a smile
Graciously spawned by Ms. Winslow 

Sitting on logs or rough lumber
Boys on one side, girls on the other
A watchful eye at every turn
Dodged spitballs one after another

Going and playing outside at recess
Found off limits the old barn around back
The ideal excuse took time off from books
Playing hooky, hiding in the haystack

Typical Old Barn
GA Hwy 84 E


http://www.amazon.com/Awakenings-Then-til-Sharla-Shults/dp/1620247313/ref=la_B007YUYUG4_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1409595215&sr=1-1 
©2013 Awakenings
Sharla Lee Shults

 
What stories do you embrace 
in your ancestral chain of schooldays past?

http://www.amazon.com/Awakenings-Then-til-Sharla-Shults/dp/1620247313/ref=la_B007YUYUG4_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1409595215&sr=1-1


No comments:

Post a Comment