It is hard sometimes for our children , and in my case my students as well, to realize that at one time the adults in their lives were children. Our children can not imagine us as young and carefree doing things that all children do and I am pretty sure that up until a certain grade level; our students think we live at school.

But the truth is that we were once little people, with parents, problems and times in our lives that were difficult. I had a great childhood full of the normal things. There were birthday parties, Lilt home perms, dolls, church, chores, and school. All the things that make up most childhoods which means my life was pretty normal. But when I was in second grade, my mother was admitted to a hospital, the National Institute of Health, for 4 months. This hospital was in Maryland and we lived in Shreveport, Louisiana. So getting to see Mom on a regular basis was not happening. My Dad would fly up to see her and we stayed with friends because we still had school. We did get to fly up and see her once. That is when we saw real snow. And when I say real snow, I mean snow over your head snow! It was great. But that was the only time in the 4 months we were able to see her. We made the best of the crazy 4 months. Looking back, I realize that everyone made sure our life stayed normal. Mom was not dying but she was there for a disease called Porphyria. It was not a well known disease hence the 4 months at NIH. The only problem was that the 4 months included Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Now Thanksgiving would have been my brother Michael’s birthday and that is around the time we flew up to see Mom. So Michael kind of had a normal birthday. But Christmas, well my birthday was Christmas Eve and mine would not be normal. I would not get to see her. We did try to keep the holiday spirit. Our Mom always decorated and baked cookies and fudge and made the house festive. So Michael and I did the same. Dad was gone to Maryland and we were home with the family friends so we decided to surprise Dad by putting up the tree. He was due home on Christmas Eve. Needless to say we were young and did the best we could but we sorta messed up the tree. But that is a different story.

This is a story about the Wizard of Oz and my sentimental attachment. Dad of course made it home in time. Airlines were a bit better 50 years ago. (Lord…that sounds like I am really old..lol.). But he was home and crazy tree not withstanding, we were going to have a great Christmas….except he had forgotten to get me something for my birthday. As a little girl turning 8, that is nothing you can just get over. I mean little children expect a present. And even though as an adult I can understand the craziness that was going on around my Mom ands Dad…at 8 that was simply not going to happen.

But Dad, being Dad, realized he forgot my birthday and that he needed to get something for me. So he bundled my brother and I up and off to the drugstore we went. I can’t remember which one, but I don’t think it exists anymore. We showed up at this store not long before it closed. He told me to go pick out something for my birthday and Michael went off to find something as well.

I ran straight to the book section. I picked out 3 books. The Children’s Bible, Alice in Wonderland, and the Wizard of Oz. I didn’t want toys; I just wanted to books. I loved to read and still do. Dad also picked something out for me. He bought me a little silver apple that was filled with a solid of Charlie perfume. That became the gift from Dad for my birthday every year until he passed away. I still, to this day, wear Charlie.

But I digress. He asked if I wanted anything other than the books, I did not. I still have all 3 on my bookcase. The books don’t just represent my birthday but they are a reminder of when life was much easier and my parents were both alive. It was also a very special birthday and Christmas because Dad made sure it would be. With Mom not home, he made sure that we had a great holiday.

So this past school year, The Wizard of Oz (The Play) was being performed at the Coughlin Saunders Theater and I wanted to take my English 3 classes. I explained to them my sentimental attachment to the play but I also told them that it would be great for them to see literature come alive. Of course, high schoolers didn’t really think they would enjoy the play, but it was a day out of school. I believe the final total of students attending was 30. Well believe it or not; those students enjoyed the play. They slipped in some humor the older students and adults would appreciate. The effects were great, the small children from other schools were fun to watch and my high schoolers really enjoyed themselves.

And me? Well this started out as a story about me and Oz. As I sat there and watched the play; I was transported back to that night I was turning 8 and my Dad took me to the store to pick out whatever I wanted and all I wanted was books. I read those books multiple times. My Bible has tape on the binding and the pages of my other 2 books are turning yellow with age but I wouldn’t give those books away for anything. I know the play didn’t have the same meaning for my students as it did for me, but in our own ways we enjoyed the Wizard of Oz and for just a little while we could all be kids again.