In my mind I intended to share some more stories from my days at Immanuel Baptist Christian School, at least that is what I figured out it was called. I thought it was just Emmanuel Christian School or simply Emmanuel. A small school in Clemons, North Carolina that did not last very long after I left for another school. That school's name I will not reveal just yet. Yet I shall give you a hint, it is named after the small town I am from that is currently become a large town or small city as of 2018. If I am wrong please correct me without being rude.
On with the story that I am about to reveal to whoever reads this. I was only there for two years, which may not have suited them very well or to their liking I suppose. At this school I was not always the brightest at some subjects, however I did prevail and succeed in passing. Every day we would go outside for recess, everyone's favorite part of the day no doubt. Some how I feel like I have written this one before. The sport we all played was soccer, sometimes baseball whenever it was just a few of us, or kickball at the baseball field on the school campus. Playing soccer was my favorite, I was not the best, however I did get the ball away from people a number of times. Now listen I was a small kid, skinny, but I was still quick and tough. At a game we all played someone kicked me down and accidentally kicked me like a soccer ball. I got up like it was nothing, yes I did.
The soccer field sat next to the science part of the school with the playground adjacent to it. There was a fence that walled us in, marking the property of the school. Past the soccer field was a hill. We all agreed not to kick the ball down that hill. Whenever that happened we would leave the ball there. Not many of us knew what was down there. I had the pleasure of going down that hill. Well running down that hill whilst chasing a ball. In the process of recovering the ball I picked it up but kept running and slammed into a thick patch of thorns that hung over the fence like roots, branches and vines.
At the age of 10 I did not even care. I marched back up that hill with the ball feeling like a pissed off champion and hero. Everyone looked freaked out seeing that I was covered in thorns. Sure enough the teachers saw me, took me to the nurse. Nothing was wrong except I got a few scared looks from other kids. To me it was not big deal. Most of the thorns came off my clothes by the time I got inside. Well whoever was the nurse or was with me took the thorns off me and made me put on new clothes. What baffled me was that the thorns never hurt. Was I bleeding or something? I guess not.
On with the story that I am about to reveal to whoever reads this. I was only there for two years, which may not have suited them very well or to their liking I suppose. At this school I was not always the brightest at some subjects, however I did prevail and succeed in passing. Every day we would go outside for recess, everyone's favorite part of the day no doubt. Some how I feel like I have written this one before. The sport we all played was soccer, sometimes baseball whenever it was just a few of us, or kickball at the baseball field on the school campus. Playing soccer was my favorite, I was not the best, however I did get the ball away from people a number of times. Now listen I was a small kid, skinny, but I was still quick and tough. At a game we all played someone kicked me down and accidentally kicked me like a soccer ball. I got up like it was nothing, yes I did.
The soccer field sat next to the science part of the school with the playground adjacent to it. There was a fence that walled us in, marking the property of the school. Past the soccer field was a hill. We all agreed not to kick the ball down that hill. Whenever that happened we would leave the ball there. Not many of us knew what was down there. I had the pleasure of going down that hill. Well running down that hill whilst chasing a ball. In the process of recovering the ball I picked it up but kept running and slammed into a thick patch of thorns that hung over the fence like roots, branches and vines.
At the age of 10 I did not even care. I marched back up that hill with the ball feeling like a pissed off champion and hero. Everyone looked freaked out seeing that I was covered in thorns. Sure enough the teachers saw me, took me to the nurse. Nothing was wrong except I got a few scared looks from other kids. To me it was not big deal. Most of the thorns came off my clothes by the time I got inside. Well whoever was the nurse or was with me took the thorns off me and made me put on new clothes. What baffled me was that the thorns never hurt. Was I bleeding or something? I guess not.
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