from my other blog….
Fast forward to the 1970’s. We lived in the same neighborhood where my father had attended school. He lived on a farm, and walked to school. The little schoolhouse, though abandoned, was still standing. It was within walking distance from our home. I walked by it, but I saw all the “No Trespassing” signs and was afraid to actually go inside the building. By fifth grade, I had developed a conscience, and was never able to break any rules without feeling extremely guilty–even if no one was around to see it. [Of course, now as an adult, I realize this is also a gift! Having instruction of Right and Wrong is truly priceless.]
Those old schoolhouses had all the grades in one room…
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