"Where Fillmore County News Comes First"
Online Edition
Wednesday, June 19th, 2013
Volume ∞ Issue ∞
- 8:58:04, Jun 18th 2013 - cabraden1 - I salute you Colonel Overland. Your were my c.o. at Rockville Naval Air ... [Read More]
- 7:10:46, Jun 13th 2013 - chipperlee - Seems to be a well written article, except maybe Silica Sand is used in ... [Read More]
- 12:02:15, Jun 9th 2013 - getthefacts - The problem here lies in the fact that girls were repeatedly told "if y ... [Read More]
- 10:45:32, Jun 7th 2013 - Jo mom for 6yrs - Mr. Ehler hit the nail on the head. I agree with the religious con ... [Read More]
- 2:47:58, Jun 7th 2013 - hello - Hello, it's time you wake up. There isn't a community nearby that doesn't offe ... [Read More]
- 9:06:21, Jun 6th 2013 - hello - Hello, it's time you wake up. There isn't a community nearby that doesn't offe ... [Read More]
- 2:05:29, Jun 6th 2013 - Kim Wentworth - The number one rule in a debate: 1) if the person from the opposite si ... [Read More]
- 12:42:18, Jun 4th 2013 - EW - For someone that is always spouting religious rhetoric, you try to come off as a ... [Read More]
- 11:32:18, May 31st 2013 - JO PLAYER - This is unfair to us girls. Morrie Miller is not getting canceled but J ... [Read More]
- 8:25:34, May 29th 2013 - RP - Why is Mr. Ehler involving himself with non-school activities? Is he going after ... [Read More]
The Remarkable Boy
Comments
Monday, May 22, 2000
I was working one Saturday evening at the Old Village Hall, where I bus and wait tables. The night was like any other, busy with the rush of old folks who would later be attending the theater. About an hour before closing the owner announced to me that he had to leave early and asked me to watch the door and host until closing. I accepted eagerly, knowing it would be slower at the end of the night and the job would basically involve sitting at the bar. Not being one to want to do a poor job, I quickly got to work and planted myself on a bar stool, soda in hand. After a while a family who had been eating at the restaurant earlier came and sat at a table in the bar, wanting to relax after their meal. Among the members of the family was a small boy. Almost immediately the boy came over and climbed up onto the bar stool next to me, no small task considering it was almost twice his height. Showing no signs of shyness, the boy spoke to me, the words coming out in a slow, well-pronounced, seemingly thought out manner.
"You know," he said. "I was looking at all the bottles behind the bar here, and I was wondering which ones I could drink?"
I smiled. "Well, that depends on how old you are."
"I am six years old," he stated, holding up that amount of fingers.
"Well, I'm afraid you can't have most of the stuff up there," I said. "At least for a few more years. We have pop and juice though."
"Do you have orange juice?" he asked politely.
"Sure do."
"May I have a glass?"
I replied in the affirmative and poured him a glass of orange juice. He looked at it, then at me warily.
"Everything alright?" I asked.
"May I have a straw too?" he asked sheepishly. I gladly got him a straw then sat down next to him again. I introduced myself and he told me that his name was Jack. We began to talk and sometimes I almost forgot he was only six years old. He was the most polite and articulate kid I've ever met. He proceeded to tell me about his family, his school, his home in Minneapolis, his Power Ranger figures, and he also explained to me what a "weekend " is. I told him about my family, my school, and my home in Lanesboro. Then he told me about how he was planning their trip back to Minneapolis the next day.
"It's a really, really long trip!" he said. "We're going to need a lot of food. I think we'll come back here and get a bunch of food from you guys. It's such a long way, we'll need a ton of it. When we drove down we brought food but my sister and I ate all of it!" At this he covered his mouth and blushed.
Eventually it was time for him to leave and he shook my hand and said goodbye. After he left I realized how much I had actually enjoyed talking to him and still couldn't believe he was only six years old. I don't know how to explain it, but it just brightened my day. Sometimes the strangest things affect you, and I don't know why, but I have a feeling I'll never really forget that conversation.
Colin Buzza is a student at Lanesboro High School.
I was working one Saturday evening at the Old Village Hall, where I bus and wait tables. The night was like any other, busy with the rush of old folks who would later be attending the theater. About an hour before closing the owner announced to me that he had to leave early and asked me to watch the door and host until closing. I accepted eagerly, knowing it would be slower at the end of the night and the job would basically involve sitting at the bar. Not being one to want to do a poor job, I quickly got to work and planted myself on a bar stool, soda in hand. After a while a family who had been eating at the restaurant earlier came and sat at a table in the bar, wanting to relax after their meal. Among the members of the family was a small boy. Almost immediately the boy came over and climbed up onto the bar stool next to me, no small task considering it was almost twice his height. Showing no signs of shyness, the boy spoke to me, the words coming out in a slow, well-pronounced, seemingly thought out manner.
"You know," he said. "I was looking at all the bottles behind the bar here, and I was wondering which ones I could drink?"
I smiled. "Well, that depends on how old you are."
"I am six years old," he stated, holding up that amount of fingers.
"Well, I'm afraid you can't have most of the stuff up there," I said. "At least for a few more years. We have pop and juice though."
"Do you have orange juice?" he asked politely.
"Sure do."
"May I have a glass?"
I replied in the affirmative and poured him a glass of orange juice. He looked at it, then at me warily.
"Everything alright?" I asked.
"May I have a straw too?" he asked sheepishly. I gladly got him a straw then sat down next to him again. I introduced myself and he told me that his name was Jack. We began to talk and sometimes I almost forgot he was only six years old. He was the most polite and articulate kid I've ever met. He proceeded to tell me about his family, his school, his home in Minneapolis, his Power Ranger figures, and he also explained to me what a "weekend " is. I told him about my family, my school, and my home in Lanesboro. Then he told me about how he was planning their trip back to Minneapolis the next day.
"It's a really, really long trip!" he said. "We're going to need a lot of food. I think we'll come back here and get a bunch of food from you guys. It's such a long way, we'll need a ton of it. When we drove down we brought food but my sister and I ate all of it!" At this he covered his mouth and blushed.
Eventually it was time for him to leave and he shook my hand and said goodbye. After he left I realized how much I had actually enjoyed talking to him and still couldn't believe he was only six years old. I don't know how to explain it, but it just brightened my day. Sometimes the strangest things affect you, and I don't know why, but I have a feeling I'll never really forget that conversation.
Colin Buzza is a student at Lanesboro High School.