P. T. A.

The P.T.A. was/is perhaps now called by a different name, but in 1960 it was a formidable organization that included teachers and parents focusing on the needs and attitudes of the children attending elementary school. The small rural outcropping of houses where I lived then was a thriving, bustling small town with one flashing yellow light on the way to a coal camp, and one at the other end of town where the road intersected. If one continued straight on, it led out of town in the direction of Pageton, Gary, and eventually, Welch. But, if you turned left, you'd travel past a barber shop, hardware store, and the theater on the right. On up, there were a small bridge and railroad tracks. It continued up the road toward O'Toole,e passing the Elementary school built upon the hill. For me, the school held fond memories, great friends, and inspiring teachers. The PTA often held meetings and conducted joint efforts to involve the children, to inspire them in some way. And, thus, hope to open up their imaginations to be creative. I'm not exactly sure what the event was that my brother David and I were attending, but the events that preceded the program were far more interesting. Living 'On the Hill', our family only had one vehicle at a time. Therefore, if we went anywhere while dad was working, we either walked or someone gave us a ride. The event at the Elementary school was scheduled and I and my brother were to attend. I don't remember why we needed to go, but it must've been important... Someone was to pick us up on the other side of the valley, but we had to walk off the 'Hill,' down through pastures, through trees, down embankments, across railroad tracks, across a flat valley, and climb up an embankment to the highway where we'd wait for the person to pick us up. We dressed and began the journey just as a misty rain began to drizzle. The dirt paths down the hill were wet, slippery, and dangerous. One was sure to lose their footing if they weren't careful. David, the dutiful older brother, did his best to keep me from falling, but I slid on the muddy path, and down I went. Sliding and slipping, I was unable to keep my balance. Twisting back and forth to regain my footing I finally got back up. Muddy and wet, I knew my pants were nasty. We made our way to the pickup site, to school, and the PTA meeting. My dutiful brother charged with 'looking after me', took me into the boy's restroom to clean my pants off as best he could. I remember him telling me "That it looked alright" and it was okay. The memory remains today as if I were sliding down the hill all over again. Unfortunately, the school has been torn down but it was a gathering of great people and great friends who've traveled with me all of my life.

How time flies. savor the moments, the conversations that inspire you. Collect the memories around you and file them away in your heart so that, in time, you can relive them over and over again when those around you have disappeared. Turn aside from injustice, surrender to compassion, praise that which is good, and reject that which is negative in your life. See beyond the here and now into a new world of tomorrow where your dreams become fact, your desires become fulfilled. Leave that which holds you back, escape from the mundane. Remember that life is priceless. Never take this moment for granted. Never give up on yourself! Don't surrender to defeat because your dream might just be around the next corner, between the pages of the book you're reading, or in a conversation over the phone.