The bell rang, and once again I rushed inside the classroom door, fumbling my books in my arms, as I slid into my desk seat.  The class was American History, sophomore year of high school. I was not particularly crazy about the subject; however, I WAS crazy about the boy I talked to every day just outside the door before class!  The teacher seemed really old to me, and who in the world would name a kid Ora Mae? I was somewhat puzzled and amused at the rose colored visor she wore low on her forehead.  I could barely see her face under the big brim of that halfway hat, and her frizzy grey hair tumbled recklessly over the top.

I was oblivious to the fact six weeks had gone by already until she began to hand out report cards at the end of class.  She paused when she got to my desk.  Peeking down at me through the pink plastic she said, “You have failed the first six weeks!”  I looked at that big red F which I had never seen yet on any report card, and I was shocked, scared.  I had no clue….WHY?  She spoke again,  “You got docked for every time you were late to class, which happens to be every day.  I have researched your records.  You will never get into National Honor Society with this grade.  You are to come early every day to school for the next six weeks.  You will redo every paper, retake every test, starting tomorrow.” I could have cared less, honestly, about National Honor Society at that point in my life.  But I knew I did not want that F, so I did what she said.

Two years went by and I was a senior, now sitting at the same desk, just a different classroom and a different day.  A white envelope was placed on the corner of my desk by my Government teacher.  She looked down at me and smiled.  I opened it to read my invitation to be a part of the National Honor Society.  I was shocked.  I had no idea.  Then I had a flashback.  Immediately I saw her face looking down at me through that rose colored visor.  This time she was smiling.  I felt something swelling up inside of me, but it was not pride.  It was a heart full of gratitude.  Suddenly National Honor Society became something very important to me and Ora Mae became beautiful!

On graduation night I walked across the platform in that huge football stadium, floodlights pouring down on me, surrounded by an excited crowd.  I received my diploma, wearing the National Honor Society stole, and holding in my heart the most important lesson I learned in high school….the Gift of Grace!

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