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The Arrival Of Spring Waiting for a sign by Amelia Anson It was seventh grade and the students of Saints Peter and Paul Catholic Grade School were savoring the premature warmth of early spring that had managed to blur over into the last days of winter. We accepted warmth as a sign — like someone who kept watch for a loved family member due to arrive would accept the honk of a distant car horn. Spring, we decided, had pulled into the driveway. Mrs. Kossina, on the other hand, assured us that this was only a taste of days to come in the distant future, once spring had 'truly' come. Our youth showed in our inability to correctly differentiate the seasons. Mrs. Kossina, who despite her temper loved to teach, saw it as another lesson to be taught. She told us that the true harbinger of spring would be the gunning of the motorcycle engine. Spring, she said, would pull into town on the backseat of a motorcycle. And the motorcyclist would proclaim the arrival of his prestigious passenger by driving past the school and revving his engine — a concept very similar to Morse code, I suppose. Sure enough, shortly after the day of Mrs. Kossina's prophesy, the sun again retreated. Cardigans and thick socks were pulled from the bottom of drawers. The warmth and cold continued to trade shifts and we waited, waited for the motorcycle. The day began — notes were passed, books were carefully chosen from the dusty shelves of the school's library for upcoming book reports, and games of four-square were enjoyed on the warm, graying blacktop of the playground. It wasn't until we were in class learning about onomatopoeia and other words that rolled off the tongue with an interesting feel that something diverted our attention from the regular activities of the day. It started as a low lull and then began to swell. The sound, so mundane it usually went unnoticed, now sent goose bumps rippling down our necks and arms. The motorcycle began to pass the building, and then, just as it began to pull away from the school, the motorcyclist gunned his engine. Our hearts leapt into our throats. We quickly turned our heads to Mrs. Kossina, who, looking as though she had just heard a stunning performance of the national anthem, turned to address the captivated audience that sat before her. She spoke, "You may now stand and applaud the arrival of Spring." It was a triumphant day.