I'll Never Forget You

By

Scott Kelly

The first thing Sharon said when I was introduced as her chaperone was, "I hate chaperones!" The smile froze on my face. "We’re adults," she said. "We can take care of ourselves. We don’t need a chaperone."

She’d known Dan through his volunteer work from way back. "You’re right," Dan said. "You can take care of yourselves. Scott will just tag along behind you in case you need anything." Dan introduced me to Sharon and James. They both gave me the briefest of courtesy smiles, then looked away. "Oh, boy," I thought, "you’re going to earn your money today."

Since I was a volunteer for A Sporting Chance and a special education student, I was there for experience, not money. I’m a student at SMSU working toward certification to teach special education. Through the Student Council for Exceptional Children, I met Dan Carroll, who is an instructor at SMSU and a board member of A Sporting Chance. Dan and his wife, Dana, volunteer full time hours to helping people with mental retardation, developmental disabilities, teens at risk, and disadvantaged children get involved with sports and to participate in recreational activities.

This was a big weekend! Here we were in Branson at the high school track, where over 800 special athletes from all over Missouri were gathered to compete in 50-, 100-, 200-, and 400-meter dashes, the mile run, quarter mile walk, standing and running long jumps, the softball throw, and even a pentathlon. I saw kids as young as 3, teenagers, many adults in their twenties and thirties, and some even up into their sixties. Sharon was around 35, and James told me he was almost 55. I was supposed to chaperone a third adult, Christine, but no one had seen her, and none of us knew what she looked like.

James pinned his number and name tag on his chest. Sharon asked James to hold her go-cup while she put hers in one of the two purses she was carrying. "Don’t lose it," she said. "I paid good money for it at the Wal-Mart Super Center."

I asked James if he knew what events he was entered in. I might as well have asked Mark McGuire how many feet it is to the left field fence in Busch Stadium! "10:05 a.m. in the morning, 50 meter dash at the pink flag; 10:50 a.m. in the morning, standing long jump at the yellow flag; then, 11:30 a.m. in the morning, soft ball throw at the blue flag." I blinked and then looked closer at his tag. James was dead on accurate.

Since my experience with people with mental retardation was limited to young children in classrooms, I took my responsibilities as chaperone for adults seriously. It’s my job to take care of them, I thought. "What about you, Sharon?" I asked. "When are your events?" I wanted her to take her number and tag out of her purse and pin it on the front of her shirt, so I could see it and be sure she got to her events on time.

"This afternoon," she said. That’s all she got out before James jumped in: "That’s right, all her events are this afternoon, and mine are this morning. Except for the relay. We’re both in the relay at the purple flag at 2:45 p.m. this afternoon. Isn’t that right, hon?"

When Sharon nodded yes, I asked if she thought she should pin her number on like James. I congratulated myself on my clever indirection, until Sharon handed me the pins and looked at me expectantly. I looked back at her and was suddenly embarrassed. Sharon is a very buxom woman, and she was wearing a thin, short sleeved shirt. How could I fasten 2 safety pins to her blouse without inadvertently…you know. But she may not be aware of it, I thought. Do people with mental retardation have the same sexual feelings others do? Handling the safety pins like live wasps, I fastened her number to her blouse without incident.

James lined up on the track with 3 competitors in his age range for the 50 meter dash. Bang! The gun fired, but James was distracted and got off to a slow start. He was wearing tan Bermuda shorts and a long sleeved pullover. His silver hair and stout body chugged down the track as his arms pumped and his thin legs moved as quickly as they could. "Go, James!" I yelled and clapped. Sharon, standing beside me, cheered and watched him intently all the way down the track. James closed the gap, but didn’t quite catch the number 3 runner and finished fourth. I looked at Sharon out of the corner of my eye to see how she reacted. She was smiling.

We went to the finish line to congratulate him. "You did great, James!" I told him. He said he got fourth, but he looked pleased. "I really ran, Scott. I tried hard." He lined up with the other contestants and stood on a podium at the end of the field, where a volunteer hung a bronze medal on a red, white, and blue ribbon around his neck and announced his name and performance in the event. The watching crowd cheered and applauded. When he came over to us, we congratulated him again. I thought of my own experiences as an old guy competing in martial arts tournaments. Even when I get third out of three, I still count it a victory. How many people do I know who stay home and never compete? We compete against ourselves, and the ultimate victory is within.

We were laughing and talking as we walked to James’ next event. I told them both this would be a day to remember. Sharon said, "I forget things a lot. My dumb head." Then she looked at me. "Will you forget me, Scott?"

"Sharon," I said, "I’ll remember you always."

Between winning another bronze in the standing long jump and a gold medal in the softball throw, James stunned me with astounding news. "Sharon’s my fiancée," he said smiling up at her with his arm around her shoulders. "We’re getting married June 10. Isn’t that right, hon?"

Sharon smiled, looking only at James. "Yes, he’s my boyfriend. We’re getting married, and we’re going on a honeymoon to Branson or Florida. I’ll wear a pink dress at the wedding."

James told me the wedding will be at his church in Springfield and said his step parents and five step brothers will be at the wedding. He said they all like Sharon and welcome her into the family. "Congratulations," I told them. "I’m happy for you. I know it’s really helped my marriage that I get along well with my wife’s family, so I’m glad you do, too." I looked at them differently. I didn’t know people with mental retardation had those feelings or were allowed to get married. How will they support themselves, I wondered.

When they announced over the loudspeakers that all chaperones should pick up lunches, room keys for the motel rooms, and tickets for the upcoming activities, I escorted James and Sharon to the bleachers and asked them to wait for me there. Just before I left, a dark haired woman who looked thirtyish approached me. "Could you help me? she asked. I assumed she was the mother of one of the young competitors, wondering where her child’s next event would be. "Sure," I said. "What can I do for you?"

"I don’t know where I’m supposed to stay tonight. I never met my group and I don’t have a key to a motel room," she explained.

I began to surmise she was a competitor herself, and I asked see her schedule, so I could get her name and where she was from. She was Christine from our group! And by what had to be divine intervention, out of all the volunteers to ask for help, she asked me! I introduced all of us, and told her how happy I was to see her. "You’re part of our group," I said, "so we’ll all stay together now and help each other out and cheer for each other."

"OK," she said. "I’m glad I ran into you. I made it to all my events this morning by myself. And I ate lunch with some other people." I looked at her and wondered how many of my classmates would have handled such a mix-up as calmly and competently as Christine.

When I picked up the keys to the motel rooms, I saw that James and Sharon were assigned to separate rooms. I hesitantly told the woman who gave me the packets that James said he and Sharon would be sharing a room at the motel that evening. "No," she said, "their guardians would need to approve that in advance."

"Guardians?" I wondered, but I said nothing. "Anyway," she said, "if they were left in a room alone together for 5 minutes, they’d be lucky not to kill each other. You know they’ve been talking about getting married for 4 years."

I carried a cardboard box with the lunches back to the bleachers and gave James and Sharon each a sandwich, cup of Coke, and bag of chips. I gave a packet of cookies to Sharon, and before I could give James his, he asked, "Are there more cookies?"

"Yes," I said, and handed him his cookies. He took them and began to eat.

Lining up for the 50 meter dash, Sharon had a worried look on her face. When she said the others would probably beat her, James encouraged her: "Just do your best, hon. That’s all you can do. Run as fast as you can, and you’ll do fine."

"I don’t want to fall down, though," she said, jabbing James’ shoulder with her fingers as she spoke. "If I run too fast, I might fall down."

"OK, OK, OK, hon," James replied. "Whatever you say." I heard him say that often.

When Sharon lined up for the race, James told me how devoted he was to her. "I cook supper for her. I cook mashed potatoes in the microwave, and she likes them with ketchup. We’re getting married June 10. I met her at the Sheltered Workshop in Springfield. I’ve worked there for 30 years. I could retire soon, but they told me I was such a good worker, I could keep on working as long as I want."

Sharon looked over at me. "Good luck!" I shouted.

"Will you forget my face, Scott?" she asked again. I looked back at her at her and told her I’d never forget her. She smiled at me.

Sharon took off with the sound of the gun. Christine, James, and I cheered as we watched her run down the track. Her bright, yellow shorts made her stand out in the field of contestants. James got to her first and congratulated her for running the race and her third place finish. Her eyes were bright, she was breathing hard, and she smiled when she thanked us.

After Sharon got her medal, we started to walk to the purple flag, where she would begin her leg of the relay race. "My purse!" she said, stopping. "I left my purse in the bleachers! It has money in it."

"You all wait here," I said. "I’ll go get it." I looked at Sharon and saw she had a tan purse on her shoulder, three medals around her neck, and the plastic go-cup in her hand. Easy to see how she could leave something behind. "What does it look like?" I asked her.

"It’s blue," she said. "My dumb head. I’m always losing things."

"Now, now, don’t say that, hon," said James, facing her and putting his hands on her shoulders, "I’ll look out for you. That’s what married people do for each other. I’ll help you."

Sharon pulled away and said loudly, "I always lose things. My dumb head, I always forget things and lose them." She poked his arm with her fingers as she spoke.

"Wait right here," I said. "I’ll be right back." I walked quickly to the bleachers and found the purse where she’d been sitting fifteen minutes ago. When I gave it back to her, she looked inside and said everything was in it.

Sharon and James were part of a 4 person team that won a silver medal in the relay race. Sharon ran the first leg, and from her starting position in the middle of the track, she looked over at me and called, "Will you forget my face, Scott?"

"Sharon," I shouted, squinting into the sun, " I will forget what the sun looks like before I forget you. I will forget how the stars look and the way the moon brightens the darkest night before I forget you. My own children’s names will rattle without meaning in my cold, empty brain before ever I would forget you." She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked back at me.

Sharon, James, and Christine each wore all their medals around their necks on the bus to our motel on busy Highway 76 in Branson. We were all tired and looked forward to resting in our rooms before we went to see Shanghai’s "Incredible! Acrobats of China" that evening.

We got off the bus, everybody got their suitcases, and each chaperone escorted a group to their rooms. As we walked past others in front of their rooms, I saw commotion and heard sounds of dismay. None of the keys would open the doors! "This is ridiculous, Scott," said Christine. "I’m tired and I just want to get into my room. They should have taken care of this before we got here."

"You’re right," I replied. "We’ll have to go to the lobby and get the right keys. It’s a hassle, but we’ll get it taken care of."

"Why can’t we get in our rooms? I want to get into my room," said Sharon. While always loud, this time her voice was louder than usual. She looked angry. She sagged back against the door and socked herself in the jaw with her fist three times, hard. I was more stunned than she was; while I’ve heard of people hurting themselves, it was the first time I’d seen it. I tried to sound calm as I said, "Yes, I understand. You’ll get into your room, but it will take a minute. And hurting yourself won’t help anything, will it?" She banged the back of her head into the metal door as I talked. She didn’t say anything else, but she stopped banging her head. At my urging, they all came with me to the lobby.

The lobby was jammed with perhaps fifty people, chaperones and people with mental retardation, all locked out of their rooms. We were hot, tired, and loud. There were 2 clerks behind the counter trying to cope. The older clerk announced the plastic cards that serve as keys needed to be reprogrammed, but the machine that does that wasn’t working properly, and the only person who knew how to fix it wouldn’t be back for another 15 minutes.

"This is ridiculous, Scott," Christine said again. "I’m tired and I just want to get into my room. They should have taken care of this before we got here." Her voice sounded more strident than before.

"You’re right," I replied. "But we’ll just have to wait. Why don’t we go back outside?" When we got out, I saw a maintenance man and asked him if he could get us into our rooms. He said he could, and began opening everyone’s doors with a master key. After he got us all inside, I went back to the lobby and got our keys reprogrammed. When I went to James’ room to give him his key, a large man in his mid twenties met me outside and said he was staying with James. Assuming he was another volunteer, I gave him the key and asked him to keep an eye on James since my room was quite a distance away. He looked at me with no expression in his eyes and didn’t say anything. Later, I observed him interacting with others and realized that he, too, had mental retardation. As with Christine, I was not aware of his condition in a casual, first encounter.

What a day of surprises! And they continued. Later, when I went to James, Sharon, and Christines’ rooms to escort them to the motel restaurant, I saw they had dressed for dinner. Sharon put on fresh lipstick, had replaced her blue pierced-ear rings with pink ones, and wore a long dress. Christine wore an attractive white pant suit, and James was dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and tie. James also wore his 4 medals around his neck. I felt like a slob in my clean T-shirt and blue jeans. They put me at ease, though, with conversation about how they passed their afternoons.

The dining room consisted of long tables for 8 where people were seated by a hostess. When Christine, Sharon, and James were seated in the last 3 chairs at a table with other people, I seated myself in an empty chair at a table nearby. I asked if the chair were taken, and the diners, whom I recognized as participants in the track meet, said it was not and asked me to sit with them. They welcomed me, and I was pleased to notice how comfortable I felt in their presence and how easy it was to talk with them.

Since the others at our tables were already eating, we had to wait. A large bowl of salad was brought to my table, and it was passed to me. I filled my salad bowl and looked over at my party at the nearby table and saw they did not have their salad, yet. Christine was looking directly at me, and I smiled and waved to her. To my surprise, she slumped her shoulders and put her head down on the dining table! "Whoa!" I thought. I quickly surmised she was upset because she did not have any food. I carried the salad bowl to their table and she immediately brightened when I gave it to her.

Halfway through the meal, I looked at James and saw long strands of drool coming from his mouth. I had not seen him drool all day. I quickly looked away, and at that moment, Sharon bolted from the table and came flying toward the door, as Dan and the dining room hostess ran to James. Christine kept her seat. Being a queasy person myself, I elected to go to Sharon and let others deal with James. "He’s throwing up!" she said, shaking her head and crying. "I’m supposed to marry him next month, and he’s throwing up! I hate that! I can’t live with that!" Dan and the hostess came over to her in a moment and told her that James was all right. They explained those things happen, and that it wasn’t James’ fault. "There’s nothing he could do about it," they said, "and he’s fine now. It’s all cleaned up. You can go sit back down, now."

When James was ill, Sharon and I both left the room and let others help him. She went back to him, while I took care not to look in his direction.

As we walked to the bus after dinner to go see the Chinese acrobats, James was explaining to Sharon that chronic sinus drainage causes his nausea. He takes pills for it, he told her. I walked beside Christine, several steps in front. Stepping down from the curb into the parking lot, James fell. I heard him go down and ran back to him. He appeared unhurt, and I helped him up. As I lifted him to his feet, I looked at him in a new light. He was a little, old man wearing a dark suit. Both edges of his clip-on tie were visible below his collars. The jacket had fresh stains, and now there were scuffs on his pants legs. His medals were still around his neck. He looked tired and old, and he held onto my arm as he walked to the bus.

We were delayed in leaving the motel because the people taking the head count couldn’t get it to come out. They worked on it for 15 minutes before deciding it was all right. "Are we going to be late for the show, Scott?" Christine asked me two or three times. "We need to get going right now." We arrived on time, and walked into one of three entrances to the lavish theatre.

We had great seats and loved the show. "Wow, did you see that?" James shouted several times. Sharon and Christine both loudly exclaimed, "Look!" and "Oh!" and "Ah!" on many occasions. Our applause was loud and enthusiastic. During moments when the announcer called for complete silence so as not to distract the acrobats during a particularly dangerous stunt, I was concerned that my friends might get carried away with their enthusiasm. Not to worry! We complied with directions and were quiet when we should have been. As we left the theatre, James said to us, "Wasn’t that fantastic? That was just fantastic." We all agreed it was the best show we’ve ever seen.

We followed some people out one of the exits and waited curbside for our bus. And waited. And waited. After 10 minutes, I wondered where the bus was. After 15 minutes, Sharon and James were growing concerned. After 5 minutes, Christine asked, "What if the bus has already left without us, Scott? What will we do? Will we have to spend the night here? I don’t want to sleep here!" Despite my reassurances, her anxiety grew and she kept asking if we would have to spend the night there.

When it got to be 11:00 and we’d been waiting half an hour, I decided to walk out into the vast, almost deserted parking lot down to a bus I saw that was shaped differently from ours. I knew my charges were too tired to walk that far. With great reluctance, I told them I was going to go get us a ride and had them repeat that they would wait where they were and not go anywhere. They agreed, and I left them in the well lit area just outside the theatre. Looking back at them several times, I finally reached the bus. It was another bus from our motel, and it was loading its last passenger, a man who used a power chair for mobility. I told the driver we had been abandoned, and he agreed to take us to the motel. What luck! I turned and started back to the theatre to tell of our rescue, looked, and…James, Sharon, and Christine were gone! Disaster! I ran fast as I could, and when I got closer, I saw a volunteer I recognized going around the corner. I caught up to her, and she said, "There you are!" We’ve been waiting for you! I finally decided to look for you and found Christine, Sharon, and James standing here."

As I walked around the corner from where we had been waiting so long, I saw our bus parked in front of the main entrance. We had been waiting, unknowingly, at the wrong entrance. James, Sharon, Christine, and all the others were on board and ready to go home. I told the bus driver what I had done, and she mildly rebuked me, saying, "We’d never leave anyone. We came with 34, and we’ll leave with 34. If that happens again, just go inside and wait."

On the bus to Silver Dollar City the next morning, James told us that last year, several people got lost, and it took a long time to find them. I asked our group if they could think of something we could do to prevent that from happening to us. They quickly suggested, "Stay together." We agreed that the four of us would stay together, and that if any of us got lost, we would meet at the entrance at 2:30. James announced that he was going to buy an engagement ring for Sharon there at the park. Sharon smiled, and Christine said she wanted to buy a souvenir T-shirt.

Shortly after we entered the park, I pointed out the Name Ring Shop. James and Sharon started looking at the rings. Christine sighed and shifted her weight impatiently, eager to move along. James called to one of the clerks, "How much is this ring?", pointing to one with the name Sharon on it.

"$18.99," the man replied.

"18.99!" James thundered, astounded. "Oh, that’s too expensive! Don’t you have any that are not so much?"

"No, that’s the least expensive we have," the man said.

"Come on, hon," James shouted to Sharon. These rings are too expensive. Let’s get out of here!"

"But you promised you’d buy me a ring! You promised! No engagement ring, no wedding! The wedding’s off!" Sharon wailed. People started edging toward the door.

"No, hon," he said, "I’ll buy you a ring, I promise. Just not here! The rings are too expensive," James protested loudly.

Sharon turned her shoulder to him and looked away as she shouted, almost crying, "No engagement ring, no wedding! You promised! The wedding’s off!" The clerks looked away. James looked desperate. Customers were leaving quickly, now.

I intervened. "Come on, let’s go," I said as I steered them out the door, preferring to leave before security was called. "There are places in Springfield where you can buy a ring for less money," I said.

"You hear that, hon?" James asked Sharon, "I’ll get you a ring in Springfield. I promise."

"No ring, no wedding," Sharon repeated, but less stridently this time. We walked for awhile, and came upon some musicians and empty seats. Sharon and James sat by themselves, and Christine and I sat nearby. While I couldn’t hear what they said, I could tell by their body language and facial expressions that the argument was subsiding. After giving it as much time as Christine would allow, we got up and walked over to them. When it appeared the marriage was back on track, we decided to ride the train.

After the train ride, we were all feeling great. Christine wanted to ride Thunderation, a roller coaster she said she’d ridden before. None of the rest of us was keen on riding it. "But I don’t want to ride by myself," she said. "What will I do?" Sharon finally agreed to be her partner. James and I escorted them to the entrance to the ride and told them we would be waiting at the exit, about a hundred feet away. I positioned myself in a place where I could watch both exit and entrance, in case they came back out that way.

While we waited, James spoke to two women who looked like they were waiting for someone, too. "Where are you from?" he asked them.

"St. Louis," they said.

"St. Louis? I have an aunt and uncle who live in St. Louis, Elizabeth and Charles Olesen. Do you know them?" They said they did not.

"I’m getting married June 10. I met my bride in the Sheltered Workshop in Springfield. I’ve worked there for 30 years."

"That’s nice," they said, and looked away.

After a minute, James turned to me again. "I’m really nervous about Sharon, Scott," he told me. "This is the first time she’s ever done anything like this without me. I like to be with her to take care of her. I hope she’s all right." 15 minutes later, we saw them in a crowd coming off the ride toward us. I don’t know who was smiling bigger, them or us! James hugged Sharon, and I told them both how proud I was of them for riding Thunderation by themselves.

Christine was so happy, she almost danced. "Thunderation!" she gloated. "Wait until I tell my friends I rode Thunderation! They won’t believe it!"

We decided to eat lunch. While Sporting Chance provided the other meals, everyone brought money to pay for their own lunch. Christine said, "I have a ten dollar bill and a twenty dollar bill. Which should I use for lunch?" I told her the ten would take care of it in fine shape. James said he was going to buy Sharon’s lunch. They all wanted hamburgers. James especially said how much he wanted to eat a hamburger.

While we waited in a long line at the Lumbercamp grill, James and Sharon engaged the people behind them in conversation. "We’re getting married June 10," said James. "We met in the Sheltered Workshop in Springfield."

"That’s right," said Sharon. "He’s my boyfriend." She jabbed his arm with her fingers.

"That’s wonderful!" a young woman responded. "Where will you live?"

James told her they would live in an apartment. They talked for awhile more, and I heard the woman say, "I think it’s a good idea not to have children right away. That can be hard when you’re newly married. I agree with you." She smiled at them, and I heard her say, "I’m happy for you."

While they talked, I thought about buying their lunch. I weighed buying it against the benefit of their having the experience of making the purchase themselves, and denying James the role of provider for Sharon. Finally, I told James what I was thinking and asked his opinion. He thought about it and then asked the others what they thought. They decided it would be acceptable for me to buy. By the time they got their hamburgers, fries, and drinks, and I got my chicken sandwich, the drizzle we’d been standing in became a downpour, a real Silver Dollar City toad strangler. James said he thought we’d probably have to leave the park and go to the bus. I asked him why. "Each one of those rides has 2,000 volts of electricity, Scott. With it raining like it is, people could get electrocuted. I think they’ll have to close it down."

We seated ourselves at a table indoors, and when I came back with our condiments, James had finished half of my chicken sandwich! His hamburger lay wrapped in foil on the table. He seemed unaware of what he was eating, and even when Christine said, "James, you have Scott’s chicken sandwich," he appeared not to understand. I didn’t say anything, but I hope he enjoyed it as much as he said he was going to enjoy that hamburger!

While we were eating, James made eye contact with some diners at another table. "Do you think they’ll shut the park down with all this rain?" he asked.

"I don’t know," a man replied.

"I think they’ll have to shut it down," he said. "Each one of those rides has 2,000 volts of electricity. With this rain, someone could get electrocuted. I think they’ll call it off and shut it down."

When no one at the other table said anything, James asked me if I thought we’d have to go back to the bus early. I told him I didn’t think so. I said it looked like it was letting up a little. Unexpectedly, James put down his sandwich, sat straight in his chair, and said to me in a quiet, serious, tone of voice, "Scott I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for buying our lunch for us. No chaperone has ever done that before. It means a lot, and I want you to know that." Christine and Sharon both thanked me, also. I have never heard a more meaningful expression of gratitude in my life, and I will always remember it.

When the leaves stopped dancing and visibility improved, we took a slow walk up the hill to the Hospitality House which is near the exit and where souvenirs are sold. On the way, Sharon and James invited me to their wedding.

The ladies were interested in T-shirts, and asked me for help in determining the sizes of the various shirts. They had no trouble finding the price labels, and decided that $15.99 was a bit pricey. Instead, Christine bought a Silver Dollar City mug and a key chain with her name on it, and Sharon bought a key chain with her name and one for James with his name. James looked without success for another ring.

We got into a long line to the cash register at 2:00. They were due to be back on their bus at 2:30. At 2:20 we were still in line, and I was getting impatient with the slow cashier. "Why do they tolerate someone as slow as she is running the cash register?" I thought to myself. Then I realized the irony of my reaction. I am preparing to become a teacher who hopes to train people to do a job as well as she does. I will try to persuade employers to hire some of my students, and encourage them to be patient if they are slow to learn. I would be proud of Christine, James, or Sharon if they did the job as well as she did. It was ludicrous for me to simmer with impatience at someone who was doing her best in trying circumstances. Was I slapped again by the hand of providence?

At 2:25, we paid for our merchandise and started for the exit. James suddenly said, "Scott, I need to find a restroom. I need to find a restroom right now."

"OK," I said, "I know where there’s one close by."

Walking to it, Christine protested that we didn’t have time. "Won’t we miss our bus, Scott?" she asked, anger edging her voice.

"No, it will be OK," I answered. "They’ll wait for us. Why don’t you and Sharon go to the ladies’ room while you have a chance?" Sharon readily agreed and went for the door. Christine followed, reluctantly.

They came out before James, and while we waited, Christine again asked me if we were going to miss our bus. I told her we would get there all right. When James came out, she scolded him, "Don’t you ever do that again! We don’t have time to wait! We might miss our bus!"

"I’m sorry," James said, "but I feel a lot better."

"Just think of other people next time, James," Christine told him. "Promise me you won’t ever do that again."

"OK," James said. "I won’t."

We got to the area where we were to meet their bus and were looking around for it when a little girl walked up to me. "Hi, Mr. Kelley," she said.

I recognized her as a fifth grader in Storefront School where I worked this year. "Hi, Elizabeth," I said. "What a surprise to see you! I’d like to introduce you to my friends Sharon, James, and Christine. I hope you had as good a time today as we did. Sharon, James, Christine, this is Elizabeth."

"Hi, Elizabeth," they all said. In the background, I saw Elizabeth’s mother and little sister smiling at us. Just then, one of the group leaders walked by, and I asked her where the bus was. She pointed it out nearby. Elizabeth told us goodbye, and we walked to the bus.

When we got to their bus, I told them goodbye and thanked them for the wonderful time I had. I told them this weekend influenced my life in ways they will never know, and I thanked them for it. Sharon looked at me and asked, "Scott, will you forget my face?"

"Sharon," I said, "I will remember you always."