The Receiver of Memory

There was a loud thunder outside, the

inside of the annex room rumbled. Many of the

books were knocked off of their shelves, and the

radio sitting on the shelf made quiet humming

sounds, as it always did when it was off. I was

tired, lying with my head resting lightly on the

pillow. The annex is my home and will also be a

second home to the new Receiver of Memory, who

was selected yesterday at the Ceremony of Twelve.

He should be arriving in 5 minutes, for the first

time ever.

I heard a knock at the door. I looked up to

see a child step through the large doors that

concealed this place from the outside. His name

was Logan. He came in, a confused look crossed

his face as he looked around the room in wonder

and curiosity. I waited patiently for him. When he

finally noticed me, he walked over looking a little

worried.

“Take a seat Logan”. I said. He looked

around for a chair, and then found a stool in the

corner. “Are you confused”? I asked him in a slow

deep voice.

“What is this place? Who are you? Do you

live here? What do I do?” On and on he went as I

sat there waiting.

“Enough questions now is not the time”. I

told him in a low demanding voice that got his

attention. He stopped asking me questions. He

told me he was sorry. “Don’t apologize. Now are

you ready to begin”? “I think I am, I mean I don’t

really know what to do.” He looked frightened

when I told him to lie down. He did it though, and

quite hastily. “Don’t be scared, we’ll, start with a

good memory”.

I pressed my hands on his back and focused my

brain to bring forward the memory. Logan

opened his eyes. I couldn’t seem to bring the

memory back. It was so old I was only a child

when it happened. I tried again and this time it

came.

My Happy Memory. It was a warm spring

day, the sky was blue, a bright shining ball of

yellow in the sky called the Sun. Me and a group

of friends walked over to a open field. Deep green

blades of crisp grass crunch under our feet, white

chalk lines mark the pitch, on each end stood a

large metal square goal. There were people sitting

in rows of chairs one one side of the field. They

were cheering loudly. When I saw the ball

checkered white and black I remembered the

whole thing clearly. I was playing Soccer, a

competitive game of sport. We lined up, one child

at each of the ends of the field, three people

slightly forwards, me and three others at the front

near the middle of the field. Players run, shout,

block, pass. Kick, the ball to each other, and

occasionally at the frame called a net. The fast-

moving ball came to me! My legs seemed to move

for me, and I was running as fast as the wind. The

ball gliding between my feet we moved up the field.

I had a straight shot at the person guarding the

net. My heart pounded in my chest with

excitement. I pulled my right leg back and

brought it forward to make hard contact with the

ball. Strike! The ball went straight to the top

corner, the goalie jumped desperately to stop it.

But it was too late. The ball went straight into net.

Score! I ran around the field celebrating, happier

than a monkey with a banana. The spectators and

my friends cheered. Several moments after the

goal, there was a loud whistle. The game was over.

I ran off the field at top speed. We had won the

game! I couldn’t believe it. My face hurt from

smiling so much. After the excitement died down,

each player lined up, including me, and our

coaches gave out round pieces of metal to wear

around our necks. We were given yellow colored

ones, the other team gray colored ones. It was an

amazing day, a happy memory indeed.

I took my hands off of his back. He sighed.

“Sir”? asked Logan. “Why did you show

me this? Why is it significant?” I had almost

forgot that Logan had seen it too. I thought for a

second, and remembered the lessons it would

teach him and the community.

“Soccer is a team sport, every teammate

has a position to play and helps contribute.”

“Logan, try to think, who scored the goal”?

“The person at the front, me”. “Yes, after

receiving the pass from another player.”

“Good. Now who stopped the goals”?

“The goalie.” “With help from the

defenders.” He answered. “They also stopped

goals.” He smiled at me. Then he became excited.

“I get it! I celebrated because I scored, and so did

my team”. “What was the lesson then”? He, like

always, thought for a moment.

“Teamwork, Cooperation. They must

work as a team if they are to achieve victory.”

“There’s one more. Can you guess it”?

Logan was slow to answer but finally said

“Competition can be good, encouraged maybe?”

“We should all use our natural talents and

individual abilities to contribute to the betterment

of a team or Community!”

“Very good, now go home I’m tired”.

“Thank you”! said Logan on his way out.

 I waved at him, thinking about how

excited I was to see him tomorrow. I sat in my

chair, leaning back, staring at the ceiling,

remembering standing in the line, being given

that shiny, golden medal.