Guinan's and Wee Works

Just as Wendy found an unexpected love in Guinan’s, I too discovered a place that grew on me and grounded itself into my character.
Following my 16th birthday, my parents demanded that I find myself a job. I scoured websites and newspapers, trekked around the neighborhood, and filled out dozens of applications, hoping to secure a high-paying yet laid-back form of employment that would amuse me for a few afternoons during the week.
I eventually found myself at Wee Works preschool, a relatively cute establishment where I had spent two years of my awkward childhood. Unlike Wendy, I did not feel an undeniable desire to become a member of the place from the beginning. As cute as three and four-year-olds may be, the screaming, spitting, hitting, and constant chaos that truly describe their stage of adolescence were apparent to me. I had little desire to scrub tables, clean toilets, wash dishes, and sanitize everything imaginable. However, this was the only place looking to hire an inexperienced junior in high school, and months of searching had forced me into desperation.
What occurred to me over the next two years distinctly resembles the transformation that Wendy experienced as she became integrated into the Garrison community. The character analyses she presented in her story capture the admiration she had for Guinan’s as a whole. Fitz and Jim, John and Jane, they all contributed to her understanding of sacrifice and friendship. Their deep concern for the store and pub led them to back-breaking measures to maintain its traditions and legacy.
Granted, Wee Works wasn’t in a substantial economic crunch, nor was its property sought after by condominium-building millionaires, yet the individuals comprising the school as a whole made it one of the most enriching and inspiring places to work. The children displayed their “true” nature, less influenced by media and peer pressure than those closer to my age. Small moments make up my memory, just as Fitz called Wendy a “pip,” I recall one boy telling me that my dress made me “look like a princess.” Instead of Irish Night, we would have dance parties and costume days, painting stripes on our faces and playing jungle games to the Lion King soundtrack or making eye patches and swords for Pirate Day. Beyond the hour or so I spent performing grunge work, the benefits of relaxing and playing with the kids, listening to their insights and answering their questions, and forgetting my responsibilities for a few hours every week made Wee Works an essential part of my schedule. I can’t say that I considered moving there, but Wee Works became a part of me just as Guinan’s became a part of Wendy.