As I walk into the large elementary school doors, I struggle to keep hold of my ski pants, mittens, and helmet in my tiny hands. My rainbow backpack feels heavy on my back, probably because mom packed it full of snacks and extra mittens in case mine got wet. The cold February wind blew snow in through the doors so I quickly pushed them shut right after my mom walked in. I stomped my big white boots onto the mat and shook off all of the snow that landed in my hair. I look up and mom gives me a big hug and her soft voice says “have a fun day skiing today, I love you.” She lets go and begins walking slowly down the hallway to the left to head to the office to do her work for the day. My eyes get watery as I say goodbye to my mom for the day, but my mood is immediately brightened when I remember how excited I am to go skiing. I walk fast down the hallway to the right to head over to the grade five classroom to meet with my class. 

I step through the tall doorway and see my teacher, along with my fellow classmates all lined up in their snow gear. I head to the back of the line and while I am walking, I see one of my friends handing a white piece of paper to the teacher. I suddenly realize that I forgot to get one of my parents to sign my permission sheet for the ski trip. I set my bag down, along with my snow gear, and I open up the zipper to find my permission form tucked into the side pocket. I rush down the hallway to go find my mom and as I turn the corner, I bump into her and I see that she is holding a white envelope. I hand her my permission form and she pulls a pen out of her back pocket to sign her initials in the bottom right corner of the paper. I take the paper from her and as I am about to return to my classroom, she hands me the envelope and some extra cash. She tells me that the envelope contains a cheque for my ski rentals along with my lift pass and that the cash is for the pizza lunch at the ski lodge. I thank her and run back to my classroom over to the teachers desk where Mr. Billinger sits. I quickly hand him my permission form along with the envelope and then return to my stuff in line. I tuck the extra cash into the small pocket in my backpack and put it on my back.

As we stand in line waiting for the bus, I look around and notice two of my classmates sitting at their desk with a word search and a few highlighters next to them. The girl was wearing a t-shirt and jeans while the boy was wearing a sweater and sweatpants with holes in them. I walk over to them, curious as to why they were not in their winter clothes, and ask them if they gave their permission forms to Mr. Billinger yet. They both begin telling me that they are not coming on the ski trip with the rest of the class. I showed a look of confusion on my face but I did not want to ask why they were not coming. They both fell silent so I said “see you later” and walked away.

When I returned to my spot in line, I noticed my friend, Sharlize, in front of me so I tapped her on her right shoulder and asked her if she knew why the two students were not coming skiing. She coupled her hand next to my ear and whispered to me that they did not have enough money to pay for the trip. I was initially shocked at the fact that this was something that people had to deal with. This made me realize that my family was privileged, but it also made me extremely sad to hear this news. I looked over to them again and thought about how they had to sit in the stuffy classroom all day while I got to ski because of my family’s financial stability.