The Fifth Year-School Begins

1991-1992 – Year Five of Being Alive!

I am so very thankful that this was the year that I started school. I’m thankful that in my early years of learning, I didn’t have to be restricted by a school system requiring me to wait until a certain age. Being homeschooled means many things … đŸ˜‰ but best of all it means that this child could start school when she was ready – and for wide-eyed, excited, curious me, that meant age four-turning-five-halfway-thru-the-year. Which, to be honest, I thought was completely normal until I got to high school and found out that as a sophomore, I had freshmen underneath me who were older than me!

I am thankful, though, that all my life, it seems, I’ve been given an insatiable thirst for knowledge and learning. That colorful A Beka math workbooks were exciting to me, and readers about historical people and penmanship practices were enthralling. I guess my taste for being a teacher someday was being foreshadowed even at that young age! I should have known when the flannel-graphs laid over the chalkboard could keep me entertained for hours!

Eight years of homeschooling – nine if you include kindergarten – and it was the best possible choice for me. I was able to proceed at my own pace, and not knowing any different, I didn’t have to compare my progress to anyone else (oh no, that comparison would come later when I entered the competitive academics of high school!). I blissfully did my school-work from 8:30 to 11:30 every morning, wondering what in the world took public schoolers so long that they had to be in school ALL DAY! I’m thankful that I had other alternatives when I got to high school, but for those early elementary days, I was perfectly content with my books and my imagination …

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