So…I was asked to pick up my close enough to 5 year old Granddaughter from school Friday afternoon.
Not a problem. I’m off every Friday, so it’s my Grand Parental honor.
After a full morning of chores…laundry, vacuuming floors and the dishes…outdoors for 3 additional hours of lawn work.
Back inside…showered, lunch and a short nap.
Gas up the truck. Check…
And now onto the most important task of the day.
It’s around 3:45pm as I roll into the parking lot of the school.
Through the door and into the school.
It’s a ghost town.
I walk to the end of the hall checking each room along the way…must be in here…no.
I’ve seen this episode of “Twilight Zone”.
Things are not as they should be.
I’m completely alone in this building.
As I head back toward the exit…yes…EXIT…a young lady appears at the door.
“Are you here to pick someone up?”
“Yes. Where is everyone?”, I replied
“Oh…they’re up the hill at the playground”, she explained.
“Thank you, so much…I was lost, but now I’m found. Thank you”
Out of the door and up the hill.
“Hey, look…there is a playground”
As I make my way up the hill and approach the playground, another young lady asked if I was here to pick up Cassidee.
“Yes, thank you”
And with a shout to be heard over the sound of children playing, another young lady said, “Cassidee!!! Your Grandfather is here!”
“He’s not my Grandfather!!”, Little Miss Cassidee replied.
“He’s not my Grandfather!!…
Silence, for seconds that seemed like minutes…
“He’s my Papa!!!”
As we walk, holding hands down the winding sidewalk towards the truck, “Have I ever told you the story about the first time I picked you up from school?”
She was a very tiny little bit…
There was a tornado that day
I felt like “The Tin Man, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion” carrying such precious cargo for the first time ever…