Ponderings…The ways we are remembered

When I was in first grade, I rode the bus to school. Every morning, my big sister (who was in the 3rd grade) and I would walk to the bus stop and wait for our bus to collect us and the other children. It was a prime time for looking for creatures – catching little grasshoppers and lizards (whom I called “lizzies”) and such. There was a particularly wonderful tree with pink flowers at the end of the street, and in the spring, there would be hundreds of orange and black fuzzy caterpillars on it, which was always good fun. Indeed there was much to experience in those mornings at the bus stop. It was at this bus stop that I also experienced my first bully. Technically, Courtney was probab