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On September 23, 1987 my mother gave me my name: Jillian and consequentially most who I have met have shortened it out of mere habit to “Jill.” This has never bothered me, in fact I prefer “Jill” to having my full name Jillian butchered as “Julien,” or “Julieanne,” or my favorite version by one individual obviously hard of hearing: “Gilligan.” Whenever another’s tongue attacks my name in such a manner I find it easiest to correct them by saying, “Jillian…Jill-ian… like the rhyme ‘Jack and Jill went up the hill.’ Get it now?” Which brings me to my point: I’d nominate my old childhood friend Jack as the most influential person in my life. Jack taught me many rules about life that have made me into a wiser person.

One day Jack and I went up a hill to fetch some water. I’d say that Jack and I only had about 10 years of age at the time, so neither of us had much strength. Still, Jack decided that we could carry more then just one pail of water; we could probably handle two full, gallon and a half sized pails each. Apparently, we overestimated ourselves, for we went tumbling down the hill, buckets and all. When we finally reached the bottom (bruised, scratched, and with grass stained clothes) Jack stumbled to his feet and said, “Ok, Rule #1… don’t get more water than you can carry. OW! My head!” That day Jack taught me not to take on more stress than I could handle or else I might have a mental tumble. Incidentally, I also learned that vinegar and brown paper makes an effective alternative to band-aids.

I learned another lesson on an occasion when Jack ate a pie with me in a corner. He stuck his thumb right in the pie and started digging around. I watched with half curiosity and half disgust as his thumb continued probing the pie. A few seconds later with a triumphant “AHAH!” Jack pulled out his thumb with a plum wedged on it. I just looked at him with one eyebrow raised, awaiting and explanation. He merely glanced at me and said, “Rule #2: To get what you really want you have to work at it,” before plopping the plum in his mouth.

My third lesson from Jack came one day in our 6th grade year. Preteen years had settled upon us and for some reason doing things our parents warned us against held a lot of appeal. So Jack found his mother’s candlestick and we gave ourselves a class in pyrotechniques. We tried burning various things: hair, cheese, and my favorite: Q-tips, but the smell got to us after awhile. A game of “let’s see who can jump closest to the fire without getting burned” ensued. Jack lost…not nimble or quick enough. However, he did get a consolation prize: a burnt toe. For winning I received more of Jack’s wisdom: “Yeah….Rule #3: Don’t do stupid things.”

According to his book, Robert Fulgham learned all he really needed to know in kindergarten. Well, I guess I learned all I really need to know from Jack’s kindergarten nursery rhymes.