I lived in a small town in Pennsylvania when I was a young girl. At the time kindergarten was only half a day and if you attended there was no bus service. My parents were fortunate to have neighbors who were teachers and drove to the school each day. My parents made an agreement with these neighbors to drive me each day to school.

The neighbors lived across from some railroad tracks. I had been taught to carefully look up and down before crossing to ensure that a train was not on the tracks. One fine day, my mother dressed me lovely like she did each day and sent me on my way. I followed the procedure of looking carefully first one way and then the other.

Yikes! I screamed and turned and ran. When I looked down the tracks everything was fine, but when I looked up the tracks, there, coming straight at me was a bear. As I ran, I fell and tore my brand new tights that we used to call leotards. I ran in the house crying and telling my mother there was a bear coming down the tracks. My mother soothed me, changed me and we began our walk to our neighbor's house.

We looked carefully and there was no bear on the tracks so we continued on our way. We walked into the house and my mother told my neighbor's what I had seen. They were shocked. My mom chatted with my neighbor a bit and then headed on her way. My neighbor told me to go and sit in the family room with Mrs. C. who would also be riding into town with us for the day. I walked into the family room and there sat Mrs. C. waiting for my neighbor's to be dressed and ready to drive her to her desination. Yes, there she sat - in her fur coat just waiting - after she had taken her long walk down the tracks earlier this morning. I was quite young but even I had to chuckle at myself and my confusion.