by Father Mark Goldasich
It’s the earworm that resurrects each mid-August: “School days, school days . . .”
I’m talking about the song from 1907, written by Will Cobb and Gus Edwards — not Louis Jordan’s jump blues version from 1949 or Chuck Berry’s rock version from 1958! The original recounts an elderly couple’s nostalgic look at their primary school days.
Honestly, the song could be rendered school “daze.” It was hard for me to get back in the “groove” after the leisurely days of summer. There were also butterflies in the stomach wondering how I’d survive a new grade with new subjects and new teachers. Plus, I had to deal with all the scuttlebutt from older students about how tough the tests were going to be and the massive amount of homework given each day.
So, yes, I would practically sleepwalk those first few days. (Truth be told, though, things were never as horrific as I was led to believe.)
Actually, I enjoyed school. That’s probably obvious since I spent much of the first 25 years or so of my life in some sort of academic setting. (If you check out The Leaven’s masthead — that’s the little section in each issue that lists the staff of the paper — you’ll see the letters “stl” after my name. I tell folks that stands for “slow to learn.”)
Well, a new school year is underway. I can tell because kids in the parish have that dazed look. I envy them. What a blessing to devote concentrated time to grow in knowledge. Sadly, though, not every student appreciates this gift that many in the world are denied.
It reminds me of this story:
Eight-year-old Frank looked forward for weeks to the Saturday his dad had promised to take him fishing, weather permitting. There hadn’t been rain for weeks and Frank was more than ready for the fishing trip. Well, wouldn’t you know it, when Saturday morning dawned, it was raining heavily and appeared that it would continue all day.
Frank wandered around the house, peering out the windows and grumbling, “Seems like the Lord would know that it would have been better to have the rain yesterday than today.”
His dad, who was sitting by the fireplace enjoying a book, tried to explain how badly the rain was needed, how it would make the flowers grow and bring much needed moisture to the farmers’ crops. Frank was not convinced. “It just ain’t right,” he said over and over.
About three o’clock, however, the rain stopped! Since there was still time for fishing, father and son quickly loaded their gear and headed to the lake. Whether due to the rain or some other reason, the fish were biting like crazy, and the fishermen returned home with a full string of fine, big fish.
At supper, when some of the fish were served, Frank’s mom asked him to say grace. He did, and concluded by saying, “And, Lord, if I sounded grumpy earlier today, it was because I couldn’t see far enough ahead.” (Story found in “Illustrations Unlimited,” edited by James S. Hewett.)
I’m sure, like little Frank, I complained about learning fractions or how to read or ancient history or grammar. I wasn’t excited about studying “boring” books or having to say prayers by heart. I questioned why I had to learn to read music or a foreign language or raise my hand before speaking. Quite simply, I just “couldn’t see far enough ahead.” How truly blessed we are if wisdom does come with age.
Let’s pray for all students, especially the reluctant ones. May God help them — and all of us — be patient and diligent until we, too, can see far enough ahead.
