Posted on Monday, 8th October 2007 by K Buchanon
When I was a very young child, I attended school in Tennessee. At that time, you had to be six to attend first grade. And as my birthday was in February, and I was only five, my family had to make an extreme effort to allow me to enter. I guess I had thrown a tantrum. My cousin Henry was already six and he would be there. By the second grade, he had moved away, and my best friend was gone.
That year, the teacher said we were going to try something new and have the children pick a friend and give each other Christmas presents instead of drawing names. There would be a limit on how much could be spent. This one boy came to me and suggested we pick each other. I said that would be alright. I had the money to spend for his gift, and during lunch hour we went to a nearby store and he talked me into buying what he wanted at the moment and said he would give me mine on the day the school exchanged presents.
On that day, I was the only child that received no present, except for a hankerchief that the teacher had given to everyone. I hadn’t read Pinocchio by then, or maybe I would have recognized lampwick. I imagine, by now, he has retired with millions and millions of dollars. Fool me once, shame on me. This has taught me to be very careful of the companions I choose. I have been told by a lawyer friend, since then, that I am the most naive person he has ever known. After all that, I still trust most people.
