Annie's Corner
Gratitude for Graduation
by Anne O. Stout

 As we headed to my son's graduation ceremony, and I am scheduled for another class reunion this summer, I think back to the fateful day of my high school 
graduation. 

 We all worked so hard, and seemed like it took forever yet it was there in a flash as well. The big moment finally arrives for us to walk away from high school and our teen years forever. We all looked so proud in our caps and gowns, each carrying a long stem red rose with some sporting the gold cords for being in the top ten of my class. 

  Before we headed outside we were instructed that a storm was coming so we would very orderly retrieve our chairs, and then go to the gym, with the crowd of family and loved ones following orderly behind us, and we would reset up in the gym. 

 We were a little surprised when the music started and they made us slowly march in to the traditional song, when we could view the black clouds and hear the rumble of thunder. As one of the shorter females in my class, I reached my chair in the front row just as the most torrential downpour I have ever witnessed hit, and hit hard. 

 I did manage to grab my chair and took off running, up over the bank, past the bleachers where my parents had been sitting, up across the parking lot and into the back door of the gym. Somehow I managed to get there with both my rose and my chair, which is more then I can say for many of my classmates. I took my chair to its appointed spot, only to find about half as many chairs as there should be being set up again. 

 Some just stood around crying, and dripping, but my eyes scanned the audience till I caught a glimpse of my parents, who were drenched like the rest of us but they had made it to the gym. 

 After we set back up, the ceremony commenced again with many of us sharing chairs, and some of us sat whispering about the fact we ran with metal chairs in a thunderstorm. The shiny floor of the gym was gathering puddles as we all sat drip-drying, and our senior prank was to hand a blue marble to the individual who shook our hand and gave us our diplomas. The principal was shoving the marbles into his pocket, but the superintendent was allowing the marbles to fall on the floor. 

 Once the first row was sitting with diplomas in our hands, the second row heard the whispered warnings, "watch out for the marbles," as they weaved their way up to get their award. The final straw at the end of the evening had to be when the fellows who had been clothed in white shirts and ties under their maroon gowns, take the gowns off to discover very poorly tye dyed pink shirts. What a mess and even today I do not know if the school paid them for all their shirts, but it sure was a memorable night. 

 Thank God, my son's school is having the ceremony inside. Doubt I could run in my heels anymore.