CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Twelfth Grade
At the onset of 12th grade, I had found employment at a large department store where I worked in ladies fashions, hanging merchandise or ringing up sales on a computerized register. I worked hard, thinking of myself as having just one of many thankless jobs in which the "reward" came only via Friday paychecks. Yet hard work did pay off, and my boss had, indeed, noticed.
A comment I had written in February of 1980 read: Pete came up to me at work and said, "Laurie, I just want to say that you are a super gal and a fine employee."
The next line, written as a matter of fact, stated: I had a hernia.
Compliments can come as a shock when they are not freely given, but perhaps that is when they mean the most.
Three days later I found he really meant the words he had said when he changed the work schedule for me so I could go to Mexico over the week of spring break.
Feb. 29, 1980… I started crying! He said, "I'll break my back for someone who's willing to break their's for me."
It was almost more praise than I could ingest in three days. Almost, but not quite.
Mexico was a sweet memory, although I would never choose to travel there again. A gift from my parents after having studied Spanish for four years, the trip was educational as well as recreational, and also proved to be the most enjoyable group experience I had ever known.