I went to catholic school. Needless to say, field day didn’t exist. The nuns in my school weren’t willing to set up cones, fill up kiddie pools with water or even set up bucket ball. They just didn't seem to get into the spirit of good old fashioned fun. Perhaps a game of Lord of the Rings would have helped them lighten up. So I missed out on the day of hotdogs, tug o wars and spash in the face fun. I think I lingered in the same building from the age of three until I turned 13 in 8th grade. I remember what a thrill it was when I went upstairs for 6th through 8th grades. The upstairs was forbidden as a younger classman unless you needed to return a library book. So Perhaps Peter takes for granted field day, something I never had the opportunity to experience. As he exits his elementary school, he got to seal the deal with a fun day of memories that hopefully will not soon be forgotten. Today’s miracle would come from the gym teachers that dragged a U-haul amount of gear from the closet of the school down the road for a few hours, just to be returned later in the day. Because of their efforts, there would be no holding back this crowd of rowdy kids. They could splash, slide, jump, run, tug, throw and smile their way through the day. Through them, I would experience my very own field day and smile along with them. The nuns in my school never realized the little miracle they were missing. Luckily for my son, it was realized today .
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