A short story.
In the 4th grade I cheated on a spelling test.
I was a straight-A student, loved studying, loved reading, did all my homework and was even tops in the school spelling bee – remember those?
You’d stand up in class, get a word to spell and if you got it right you remained standing until all but two of you were left up. Then, Mr. Sparrow – my absolute favorite teacher in elementary school – would bring up the last two standing and give us words as we stood there in front of the whole class. The athletic kids had been seated since round one, the math kids had flopped out several rounds after that, and the word nerd, spelling geeks like me and my best friend, Jeanna Champion, would remain. (Yes, that actually was her last name, “Champion.”)
It was the Friday before our big all-school spelling bee at Thousand Oaks Christian School and I had been practicing from the official ACSI Spelling Bee handbook for weeks. I knew every long, weird word and every short oddly difficult word backwards and forwards along with their Greek and Latin roots and how to use each in a sentence. I. Was. Ready. Bring on the Bee!
Except one thing…I. Was. Nervous.
I had to pass the Friday Spelling test with a 100% in order to compete. No problem. I never missed any on those regular class tests – never. But, I was really nervous and the “what ifs” consumed me.
Jeanna and I were truly kindred spirits. We both loved reading, writing, spelling and all things word. She lived in the same neighborhood, and we spent hours at each other’s homes after school and on overnights and at the park down the hill which was the middle meeting spot between our houses. But Jeanna was a true genius – like Mensa level. We both loved all the same subjects, but she was brilliant and next-level word-nerdy for a young 4th grader – and, like her surname, she was a champion in all subjects – even math!
So, as the big Bee approached, I got a bad case of the What If’s – what if I missed one? What if I didn’t make the Bee? What if I forgot if “i” came before or after the “e?” So, infected by “Whatifitis” I decided to inoculate myself against failure and keep a small list of the spelling words for the weekly test just under my desk. A brilliant plan – with the cheat sheet at my feet I could hunch over and look like I was writing with focus and intensity while I was actually double-checking each word against my cheat sheet.
My plan would have totally worked if it weren’t for one thing: Eric Charles Langner III.
Eric was the cutest boy in our class, probably the whole school. He was one of the guys who would sit down early-on in the spelling bee not because he was dumb but because he’d rather be out on the field playing soccer at recess than nerding-out with us Bee Kids. He was athletic, fun, and outgoing and if a 4th grade boy can be charming – he was a prince! Eric sat one seat behind and to my left and guess what his charming blue eyes spotted?
Well, around word #19 out of 20 of the spelling test I heard the shifting chair legs scooting across our carpeted classroom floor, and Eric Charles Langer the 3rd walking slowly up to the front of the classroom, past my desk, past the two in front of me and up to Mr. Sparrow seated at his desk reading off the spelling test words. As Eric passed by I looked up just in time to see him glance slightly back at me and I knew what was going to happen next. I was about to die of a heart attack at the ripe young age of 9 in front of all my classmates, my BFF Jeanna the Champion, the hottest 4th grade boy on the earth, and my favorite teacher in the whole world. Eric Charles Langer III placed his hands on Mr. Sparrow’s desk, leaned in and down, and as he whispered, I could see two brown eyes raising up and looking over Eric’s hunched shoulders right. at. me.
My palms were sweating so much that I could see the wet outlines of each hand glistening on my desktop. Eric returned slowly to his desk with his head down avoiding eye-contact as Mr. Sparrow slid his big wooden teacher’s chair out from behind his desk. My favorite teacher then stood up and came from around his desk and headed in no particular hurry straight toward mine. Past Mona Rolland in the front row, past the other Erik in row two and right up next to me. I couldn’t look up. I was frozen.
Mr. Sparrow bent down, picked up the fateful list off the floor by my feet and looked it over, then looking at me he let out a little sigh and motioned with his eyes for me to follow him to the front of the class. By now the terror filling my heart was replaced somehow with tears. I know that no tear ducts connect the heart to the eyes, but somehow that’s still what was happening, and my eyes brimmed with warm salty tears and began to spill down my red face over my quivering lips.
I was filled with so much shame and sadness, so much disappointment in my own vain self. I knew what was next – Mrs. Fuller – the principal.
Still following Mr. Sparrow, I matched his slow footsteps with my own sad shuffle on out of our 4th grade classroom into the hall where he paused, turned to me, and bent slightly over to look into my eyes, “You cheated? Why?” he asked calmly and simply. There was a sweet patient touch to his voice. No harsh tones. I could tell he was sad.
“I don’t know.” I whispered shakily without looking up.
“Stay here.” He said as he walked back to Room 6. I waited against the wall between the door of our classroom and the door to Mrs. Fuller’s office. Behind me was my class, my best friend, Eric Charles Langer III, and now Mr. Sparrow all finishing that 20-word test. Ahead of me was Mrs. Fuller and The Paddle.
Our school paddled kids back in those days. In fact, it was well known that the expected punishment for cheating was a paddling. I suppose I should have mentioned that at the beginning of this story. The loom of the paddle hung there while I considered my ill-fatted cheating plan, but not heavy enough in my mind to keep me from cheating. And now I waited, knowing that my parents had already signed off on paddle permission (probably not what they called it, but it’s how we kids talked about it.) I had only heard of bad kids who got that paddle, and that was now me.
I waited. I knew what was coming. I deserved it.
Mrs. Fuller was a long, slender woman, with short dark hair trimmed neatly above her ears. She motioned with a thin bony finger for me to come to her office. I trembled in her direction, took a seat in a cold chair in front of her desk and waited as she sat down. The “Paddle” hung just up and over her left shoulder on the wall behind her waiting for me.
But, when she sat down she asked me the same question Mr. Sparrow had, “Why?” Why cheat? Why, when it was all but set that that I would go to the Bee and represent our school? I don’t really remember exactly what I said, but she listened, and I cried and she sent me back to class with a hug and a warning and a reminder about the wrongs of cheating…all while that Paddle hung unused on her wall.
Head hanging low, I made my way back to Room 6, row 3, past Mr. Sparrow and in front of an unusually quiet group of fellow 4th graders all minding their own business getting ready for lunch. Lunchtime came and went, followed by our reading time with Mr. Sparrow, then our last lessons of the day, and finally heading home. Mrs. Fuller had called my mom and dad and so, when I did get home, I faced another terrifying layer of waiting for punishment, and again, my parents only asked, “Why?” Why when you have so much ability would you do that? By now I could put it into words, I was afraid.
You see, when we set ourselves up for perfection based on what we personally desire, fear of failing is overwhelming. Even the potential consequences of severe punishment can’t overrule that fear. It’s different when we live covered by the LORD’s perfection. As severe as His Law is and devastating the punishments are, in Him we don’t get what we deserve—the weight of the law crushing us—we get His grace and mercy instead. It’s an incredible blessing and the pages of Leviticus have shown us, I pray, that Grace is exactly what awaits. The Law, as perfect and precious as it is could only remind us of our sin and failures. The law point us to Christ. Take His atonement as your covering. When we do, instead of sin and shame we are met with grace and mercy.
I originally shared this story in the “Saved & Set Apart” Dwelling Richly Bible study. I invite you to join me through that or any of the Bible studies I have available. Be a part of the Dwelling Richly community of women like you who long for more and are finding it in Jesus together as we dwell in His Word.
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