I smiled as I watched the children play on the slides, jungle gyms, and swings. My face was joyful when I heard their shrieks of laughter.

But my eyes surrendered my true thoughts to anyone that was willing to pay attention to an old man sitting on a park bench.

The playground transformed before my eyes into the dirty grass hill beside the schoolhouse. The girls played with their dolls, an imaginary tea party in full swing. The boys ran up and down the hill, wrestling in the dusty ground as the teacher scolded them for getting their clothing dirty.

A small bell rung; it’s high notes emanated from the small tower sitting on top of the school house.

All the children groaned, and started to pick up their dollies, or dust off their clothes, and headed back into the stuffy school.

The cheery song of an ice cream truck brought me out of my reverie, and I smiled again as I saw all the children clambering over one another, delighted at the prospect of a sweet treat.

Somethings, I thought, will never change.