My First Day at School
I was then a boy of six. My father proposed that I should be admitted to a school in class one. I felt both joy and fear. It was Sunday. My mother washed me well, combed my hair, and dressed me in new, costly clothes. Father also dressed himself in fine clothes and got ready. Then I went to school with my father.
My father took me to the headmaster and requested him to admit me to class one. At first, I felt a bit nervous and shy in the new environment, where everything was unfamiliar to me. But the loving and affectionate words of the headmaster helped me to get rid of my fear and shyness. I looked at him, and he, with a smile, asked me what my name was. I told him my name and answered his other questions quite well. The headmaster was pleased with my performance and admitted me to class one.
Then he called the class teacher, Mr. Anwar, who took me to the classroom. The teacher introduced me to the other boys in the class. They welcomed me with smiling faces. After a few minutes, I looked out of the window and saw my father going home. I wished I could follow him. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I bent my head between my knees. A boy sitting beside me whispered, “Nothing to weep. I am your friend.” I raised my head, dried my eyes, and paid attention to the class.
School broke up at 12. After school, I ran back home. My mother was at the gate to receive me. I stretched out my arms and leapt into her embrace. She kissed me. That was my first day at school. Since then, many days and years have passed, but my first day at school still peeps into my memory.
