I recall being overjoyed at the start of the school year
when it became clear that I would be attending classes for the first time. I kept telling my mother about the life-changing decision I was making. It was crucial for me because my older brother would taunt me for just being old enough to go to kindergarten. I was inspired because I was going to exceed my brother's expectations and demonstrate that I was able to face the risk. However, it later emerged that everything had turned sour, making me lament my enthusiasm.
The experience I underwent on my first day in school
has since made me realize that regardless of the level of anxiousness that we might be having to accomplish life’s goals, it is worth waiting rather that have a regretful ordeal. On the exact date for reporting to school, I woke up earlier than my mother an unusual achievement as I was fond of oversleeping and be pleaded to wake up. I hurried my mother to prepare my meal and within twenty minutes I had taken a shower, breakfast, and put on my uniform ready for the day. I was too excited that I could feel that my mom was getting concerned. She was nevertheless positive as she had grown restless due to my naughty character. I ignored her worried look and focused on finishing the packing process as I ensured not to maintain eye-contact with her. Within a short while, we were on our way to make history. Upon arrival, we were welcomed well and because we had turned up so early there were not many people who had reported. I was nervous and wished that the administrator would complete my admission process fast so I could head to the classes section and begin my studies.
After the registration process, my mother had to go back.
While I was aware that it was mandatory, I remember experiencing a feeling of emptiness that got me worried. After she left, it took me more than one hour to get fond of the buildings and identify the classroom that I was to spend my time for the rest of the year. With a feeling of anxiety and fear, I turned the door knob and slowly tip-toed to where the teacher was standing. I asked the teacher whether I had gone arrived at the right place, which I got a positive response. I realized that because of the challenge I had trying to locate the building, I had already missed one lesson. Within five minutes, I was already bored with the learning and especially the dictation that everybody seemed accustomed to. I remember my brother informing me how excited he used to be when the lunch bell rang as everyone would head to the cafeteria. After about twenty minutes, I heard the bell ring and shouted, “Hurray, it’s lunch time!” I looked around, and everybody was staring at me. Without anyone’s clarification, I knew it was time for the next period, and amid the shame, I walked out of the classroom and headed home, as the class burst into laughter.
I later realized how anxiety had gotten me restless and foolish.
I remembered ignorantly refusing to be escorted to the classroom and woke my mother early to a disappointment. I cried all the way home and narrated the ordeal to my mother who stated that I had just confirmed her worries. My brother could not hold his amusement at what I went through. I hurt me that despite the pressure and assurance I had given them, I had failed terribly on day one at school. I believe that the experience was a life-changer because, following the incidence, I learned to appreciate the worth and power of patience.