In the halls of Mapleton Elementary, School
We learned and lived by the Golden Rule.
I am not that old, yet the echoes remain,
Of a place where life was simple and plain.

Written letters from parents because leftism requires permission,
Left-handed use was an oddity, some considered it a condition.
My parents disallowed my left-handed use,
My struggle to write was seen as a lazy excuse.

Dorthy teased, saying I wasn’t special, and would never be like her
except when I was wearing my hand-me-down coat, fake rabbit fur.
Ah but the bullies of school days are different than today
We were all friends even if with me they wouldn’t play.

and the teachers cared beyond what they were paid to care.
They helped each child with every need, even fixing our hair.
Blackout curtains draped heavy, a shield from the light,
As Loring stood close we felt safe with this guardian in sight.

They used the curtains once during the solar eclipse
“Don’t look, you’ll go blind” warned our teacher’s lips.
Duck and cover drills, in early grades we knew,
Bert the Turtle cartoons played, teaching what to do.

Under desks, we would hide, false security in this ritual of care,
In the shadow of uncertainty our community was aware.
Now Loring is an empty memory, a hero of the past,
I still remember wind chills of -80 in safety broadcasts.

Morning prayer echoed, hands folded, a hymn in the air,
The Pledge of Allegiance over the intercom was a solemn affair.
A time of unity. We held our country in a patriotic embrace,
Confusion lingered when in defiance silence took its place.

A moment of silence, a moment to mourn, as change swept the air,
Yet, the Lord’s Prayer remained as a melody to learn and to share
We sang it in chorus, set to music, along with One Tin Soldier Rides Away.
In Mapleton’s heart truth remains a place to visit where we belong to this day.

And in the school library, in the world of knowledge, it would abide.
I found God in the library, where the Bible stayed on the shelf as a guide,
I mourn a time past, for the good and the bad, when traditions shaped the school,
And in my mind, in my soul, echoes of Mapleton remain, I am a nostalgic fool.

I am not that old but I am a keeper of an exceptional tale,
of Mapleton Elementary where good memories prevail.
In the corridors of time, these moments are stored,
where the heart of this child was blessed by our Lord.