The playground was crowded. Both the 5th and 6th grades were out for lunch, and after their meal they used the playground to expend built-up classroom energies.
Being the smallest boy and the poorest reader in the 6th grade did little to massage my poor self- esteem or help to lay the foundation for a more eventful life.
However, size was my immediate problem, and not my lack of reading skills. Because I was small, I became the target for any boy looking for a swift playground fight victory, or a self-anointed bully seeking self-fulfilling entertainment.
But on this particular May afternoon, things were going to change for me. The doormat of the class, the unskilled and uneducated ragamuffin of Seymour Elementary School was about to blossom and ascend skyward, up the juvenile pecking order that is most pronounced by schoolyard boys.
Before continuing my narrative, let me tell you what initiated this elevation of personal confidence.
About a month prior to this eventful day, while swimming in a small man-made lake called Anners Dam, I made a discovery. Imbedded in the mud near an ancient oak tree that acted as a catapult to swing nearly naked boys into the center of the lake, I found a small stone. It was rectangular in configuration, with tiny specks of gold scattered throughout its dimensions, presenting a glowing appearance. I immediately adopted this precious jewel as a divine gift, promising to keep it near me always.