Among them was a lone child, Johnny Cooper. Throughout the year he had been looked down on by the other kids.
All the other families had placed their children in the Grammar school with ease. The Cooper's had been forced to go without so their son was able get his opportunity.
From an early age, Johnny had shown a leaning to writing. In his junior school he had been ahead of the class when the time came for reading and rarely a day passed when he didn't have a book in his hand.
The children danced and ran, the holidays were here. No school for six weeks. All the chatter was of holidays abroad, sea trips and skiing and then the children stopped talking and turned to Johnny, one asked "Are you going back to the same place as last year, Johnny?"
Johnny glanced up from the floor, his scuffed shoes told a sad story of his upbringing, "No, dad had to find a cheaper spot for the caravan this year. We had to make more cut backs."
Mark Phillips, probably the only true friend Johnny had said, "I'm sorry to hear that, Johnny."
Johnny thanked Mark and listened as others continued to talk of great journeys and going overseas.
The gates opened to let the children out to meet their parents and slowly a sad Johnny walked out with a last look back. He sighed and thought "Goodbye, I won't be back next term."
Parents greeted children and walked them to their cars, above the hubbub of noise a single engine roared into life. Johnny looked down the road to see his father's old beat up Panther motorcycle approaching.
He turned back to the children and saw the looks on their faces, looks not of derision but of envy. For all their talking of holidays abroad and all the things they were to do. The children envied Johnny and his family, for finding joy in the simple things in life.
Their holidays would be spent wondering what tales of the sea shores he would tell next term, he is the one living a life.