On Friday morning June 10th, three friends got up about four in the morning. It was the last day of school of their eighth grade year.

Imagine the graduates meeting at Harlequin Bridge and riding in the very dim morning light down the valley road. I'll bet no cars passed them. Imagine them talking easily with one another as they pedal towards school. Imagine them planning the campaign they were now putting into action. On their last day of school, they were going to get to arrive before their teacher.

Hiding bikes by the woodshed, they entered the school and went up to the library. They stood in the dark at the library windows waiting for me to arrive. Imagine the conversation.

Peering so intently through the window screen to glimpse the first signs of my arrival, they made themselves almost dizzy. (I'll bet they were hungry too.) They didn't know if I would arrive walking along the dark path that was once the road to the Rainbow Lodge or if I would bring the truck to get benches at the Community Hall later in the day.

After waiting over a half hour, they saw headlights come up the road and turn into the school driveway. They dashed to the upstairs window looking out on the parking lot. They waited breathless. What would happen?

From their perch, they watched me get out of the truck and stand momentarily looking into the woods next to the wood shed. Was that a bike back in the trees? They saw me evaluating the scene. They were fairly certain their bikes had been spotted.

I came inside cautiously. If the graduates were inside, I didn't want them to jump out of some hiding place to scare me. Inside the door, I heard music coming from the library. Up the steps I went. Rounding the corner slowly, I saw a computer screen turned on and a Mavis Beacon calliope sounding music playing. It was a little spooky. If I hadn't suspected anyone was in the building, it really would have been creepy hearing that music in the dark school. I continued on through the library and into the even darker hallway where many books are stored. If the graduates were hiding upstairs, this would be the place.

The three early morning biking conspirators were kind. As I drew closer to their hiding spot in the alcove by the storage room, they made suitable mysterious sounds revealing their presence. They came out into the open. They were giddy with their adventure. I was giddy to have these three arrive so early their last day of school. In all honesty, I had NOT expected them to be there. They gave no inkling of their intentions during the week. The graduates, families, Kim and I shared a delightful surprise Saturday picnic dinner the previous weekend. I could not imagine them doing more, but here they were, three of my very best friends surrounding me bubbly, excited, enthusiastic.

As we talked of the details of their mission, they admitted. "We didn't want to scare you too bad. We didn't want you to have a heart attack." I want to take the opportunity this evening to thank the graduates for NOT scaring me out of my wits by jumping out from some dark corner. You were both kind and wise.

After hearing the tale of the morning from these happy young people, we all went downstairs to eat. The graduates brought a full breakfast. Waiting to eat had been almost unbearable for these young up-so-early eighth graders. They were patient as I grabbed my camera and took a picture. In the picture Warren and Garret are holding breakfast treats while Mary holds the clock. The time of the picture was 5:32 AM. Imagine that.

After the picture, there were moments of relative quiet as the three inhaled their scrumptious breakfast. Moms provided everything: cinnamon rolls, egg soufflé, a drink, fruit cups. It was extravagantly delicious on this day of celebration.
After eating, the three graduates headed to the library to work on a project before the other students arrived. I stayed back in the main classroom for a few moments before joining them. I was overwhelmed with their kindness, their good will and intentions. I was overwhelmed knowing this would be my last full school day with these three active, productive, wonderful friends. I was overwhelmed with the memories of their sojourn in this place. I was overwhelmed with happiness knowing that in the all in all of things, we care deeply for one another.

Mary, Warren and Garrett lifted me up Friday morning and with that the cup of my soul runneth over. They filled my heart to the brim and beyond with their good intentions. I could not ask for anything more in my professional life than to, year to year, be in the presence such good, energetic young people. Imagine - the three friends biking down the dimly lit road at 4:30 in the morning, imagine their wait in the library, the surprise, the breakfast, the happiness and shared good will. Imagine. As Karl Gaskill saw when he conducted my evaluation, innocence and goodwill are available in this place. I give thanks for that.