My memories from the time before I was ten are hazy. Only fragments remain. For example, my first day at school didn’t stick in my mind at all. A twenty-minute walk. Meeting in front of the school. First steps in the classroom.
We got up early, of course, before seven o’clock. We were excited. Me and Šárka had everything ready, exemplary first-graders, twins. Pencil cases, schoolbags, snacks. The only difference was the colour: I had blue, my sister had red.
It was really busy in front of the school building: dozens of kids shouting and wide-eyed, and their parents frantically looking around and trying to figure out what was going on.
There were a lot of us born in the year 1982 and going to school for the first time in the same year, and we were swarming there like ants. I held on to Šárka and she held on to me, we were inseparable. Same classroom, same desk. I was sitting on the left because I was left-handed. Had I sat on the other side, I would only bump into my sister when drawing or writing. We had already practiced that at home.
Good morning children, my name is Alena Tichá and I will be your class teacher,” said a lady with short black hair as soon as she entered the classroom. These were the first words I heard at school.
Our teacher was as pretty as a picture. I liked her a lot, but that’s probably normal for all first-graders. She was young, nice and caring. I loved her gentle voice.
I used to look forward to seeing her every weekday, for the whole school year. But only one year. What a pity. It might sound weird, but the only thing I have left of her is a drawing of the Little Mole in my autograph book. After the first year she left, because she was expecting a baby.
P.S. Next week - Chapter 6