I never finished high school in my little hometown but I truly wished I had.
My father moved us away before I had a chance of being a high school teenaged lad
I am certian I missed many young girls to crush on and deeper friendships to make
But I suppose I had more learning to do away from familiar; other world’s to shake.

It happened in the middle of grade 7, my first year from elementary rule.
The journey not far across the sports field, yet feeling like miles
to SOSS school;
a journey from being a little playground kid to textbooks, binders, and wicked test;
a journey from playing marbles and pickup baseball to study to do our best.

Yes, the Junior Hornets. I made the basketball team. I remember it well.
The Rattlers, our despicable rivals from Osoyoos. Too often they won and down we fell.
The Christmas play; acting out the part of a young boy sitting in a church pew.
A minor part of course for no teacher of mine would trust what I would say or do.

The Oliver ladies choir singing “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”
Their voices ring
in the harmonic air of Frank Venables auditorium. When I grow up, I too want to sing.
The grass around the school when being cut smelled different than any other lawn
that I have come across, pungent yet sweet, earthy, the kind you want to lie back on.

Just like SOSS students themselves, earthy, those I often wish I had grown up around.
It’s never too late. I’m still growing up. After all these years many school friendships are found.
Thanks to computers and the Internet we continue to grow up with the rest
of the hearts and minds who treasure those wonderful, youthful years of SOSS.

denny bastian 2016