Junie B. Jones Is a Graduation Girl - Barbara Park [1]
“But Paulie Allen Puffer says that next year everything will be different,” I said. “He says that first grade won't have the same kids as Room Nine does. And so all of our classmates will be weirdo strangers.”
Mother did a frown. “No, no, no. That's not true,” she said. “I'm sure you'll know a lot of children in your class next year, Junie B. But even if your best friends aren't in your room, you will still be able to play with them at recess. Right?”
I nodded my head kind of slow.
“Yes. I guess so,” I said. “Plus Paulie Allen Puffer says that we will be the boss of all the kindergarten kids. So that will be fun, probably. And also, he says our brains and our feet will double in size.”
Mother stared at me a real long time. “That Paulie Allen Puffer is a fountain of knowledge,” she said very quiet.
After that, we talked some more about graduation and first grade.
And guess what?
The next day at school, my teacher talked about it even more.
Her name is Mrs. She has another name, too. But I just like Mrs. and that's all.
Mrs. clapped her hands real happy.
“Well, this is it, boys and girls!” she said. “Graduation week is finally here. At seven o'clock on Friday evening, Room Eight and Room Nine will have our graduation ceremony together. And, of course, the children in morning kindergarten will be graduating, too. So every single one of you will receive a diploma!”
I springed out of my chair very thrilled.
“A DIPLOMA! A DIPLOMA! I WILL LOVE A DIPLOMA!” I shouted.
Just then, I did a teensy frown.
“It's not clothes, correct?” I asked.
A meanie boy named Jim laughed real loud.
“Ha! You Gooney Bird Jones! You don't even know what a diploma is,” he said.
I stamped my foot at that boy.
“Oh yes, I do too, Jim,” I said. “I know perfectly well what it is. But I am not even the teacher here. And so I will let her explain it to the class.”
I sat down and smoothed my skirt. Then I pointed to Mrs.
“Okay, go,” I said.
Mrs. wrinkled her eyebrows at me. “As I was about to say, a diploma is a very special piece of paper. A diploma is a certificate that says you've completed part of your education. As you go through school, you'll get several diplomas,” she said. “But this one will be your first.”
I springed up again. “And guess what else, Mrs.? I am not even afraid of first grade anymore! ’Cause I'll be getting big feet and brains!”
Mrs. said sit down to me. Then she told us more about graduation.
She said that as a treat for our families, we will be making them special graduation invitations. And so that will be our activity for the day!
“Yippee!” I said. “I love making invitations, Mrs.! On account of that does not even sound like learning!”
After that, I clapped and clapped.
And all of Room Nine clapped with me.
’Cause graduation week was starting off like a charm!
I sat at my table very nice.
Mrs. passed out colored paper for our invitations.
Also, she passed out curly ribbon. And lace. And paste. And bottles of sparkly glitter.
“Just as a reminder,” she said, “we do not paste glitter in our eyebrows. And we do not put lace up our noses. And above all… we do not glue curly ribbon to our heads and pretend that it's long hair.”
She looked and looked at me.
I squirmed in my seat a little bit.
’Cause that woman has a memory like a hawk, I tell you.
Finally, Mrs. went to the board. And she picked up her chalk.
“On the inside of our cards, we're going to write a poem about graduation. Does anyone have any ideas for the first line?”
My friend named Grace waved her hand all around in the air.
“Roses are red! Roses are red!” she called out.
“YES!” hollered Room Nine. “ROSES ARE RED!”
Mrs. smiled. She wrote it on the board for us.
“Okay. Now what about the second line?” she asked.
Room Nine hollered again.
“VIOLETS ARE BLUE! VIOLETS ARE BLUE! VIOLETS ARE BLUE!”
Mrs. wrote that line, too.
“Very good, class,” she said. “Now who can think of the third line? Maybe we should try to mention something about graduation in this one.