Column: Just Add Water

When I was a little girl, there was something magical about a newly sharpened pencil and an empty composition book. Maybe it was the smell of fresh wood shaved to a perfect point. Or maybe it was the way the crisp lined paper flipped to reveal endless possibilities.

Through the years, the magic lost its luster, especially when I began buying school supplies for my three children. Walking the long, overstuffed aisles of local stores, I could only concentrate on my carefully designed list. And this annual ritual became a dreaded chore.

Last year, someone from the Parent Teacher Organization at my children's school asked if I would be able to help at an event called Pack the Bus. I checked my calendar and found I was free that day. Unsure of what it was all about, I reluctantly agreed to volunteer.

So, on a Friday morning last August, I donned my most comfortable clothes and drove to a local big box store prepared to help pack a bus full of school supplies. I assumed that heavy lifting would be involved, that we would be packing a bus.

You can imagine my surprise when I arrived at the big yellow bus and was handed a gift card and told to buy school supplies for students at my kids' school.

"What do I do?" I asked the organizer to repeat herself.

"You're going to buy school supplies for your school," she repeated. This busy woman quickly moved on to other volunteers.

I turned to a couple of women standing next to me. They were wearing matching school T-shirts and were reviewing the laundry list of school supplies, making their game plan.

"So, we are here to buy school supplies for our school?" I couldn't believe my ears and had to hear it again.

The pair smiled and explained that we were to buy extra supplies for the teachers.

"After all, kids don't always show up prepared, and teachers will buy this stuff themselves," one woman added.

I quickly called the secretary at my kids' school and asked what was needed. She gave me a general idea of what the teachers would need, but assured me that anything I bought would be appreciated.

I was inspired.

As I pushed my cart up and down the overstuffed aisles, the erasers, folders and backpacks looked different than they ever had. I leaned over and picked up a stack of composition books. Doing the math, I chose 30 black-and-white marbled books and placed them into my cart. I dropped 20 packs of yellow No. 2 pencils in, too.

An hour later, I had filled three boxes with paper, pencils, folders, rulers, erasers and backpacks. I knew these supplies would help the teachers prepare their students to receive a better education. The possibilities seemed endless.

Magic is funny that way. Just when you think it's lost, it reappears when you least expect it.