claire4

Claire Jone
2002-02-06 03:41:27 (UTC)

J.R.

I was sick the first day back from school, (a wedensday:
long weekend) from the long weekend. So the second day i
came back, i had heard from my fellow religious peers, that
my religous ed teacher died. I know I know, Corny little
white girl going to church! It wasn't like that though.
Sure, my parents made me go, but it wasn't even that bad as
it had been previous years. We wouldn't even hardly pray or
learn about god like we were supposed to. J.R. would tell us
stories about his friends and family.

I had told him that i was interested in dance, and then he
told me a story about how his daughter was in a ballet, and
how a huge sliver went right into her foot. Well, she didn't
even notice the pain until she got off stage. Then, J.R.
rapped a bandage around her foot real tight to put pressure
on it, and then of course, like any good saint would do,
J.R. prayed that she would dance beautifully and be happy.
When J.R.'s daughter came off stage, she burst into tears,
because she noticed the pain again, and they rushed her to
the hospital.

It was really hard for me when I went to the memorial. They
played really sad songs, and told stories about what he had
done. The priest gave students a chance to go up there, but
i didn't get a chance to. Well, i didn't get to know J.R.
very well, but meeting him, and hearing about him is enough.




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