I wasn’t especially terrified, unlike the people who surrounded me. Some had been up half the night in anticipation for this moment. Was I afraid? Yes. Was I confident? No. But I knew that I could pull through–no, I would pull through. There was no room to try.
I sat there in the silence. She had been late two days in a row, so I didn’t think today would be any kind of exception. I quickly checked to see if it had become available.
So I sat. I reminded myself of my preparedness. I reminded myself what was on the line today. My grade. I had three percent of wiggle room, and that was all.
That’s when she appeared, only a hair late today. I waited for the dismissal. The speeches. The rallying of our spirits.
“I’m not going to make you take the final today,” came her voice through my laptop.
There was complete silence for a moment–nay, not even a moment, as we clamored to confirm her statement. The chat box exploded with questions and hallelujahs.
“WE AREN’T WRITING STUFF”
(And, my personal favorite):
It was a glorious day. Yesterday, we took a multiple choice final. We were thrust into a lottery of subjective questions given objective answers. Most of us received terrible scores. We knew, however, that if we did well enough on this second part of the final–the writing portion–we might just save our grades.
And now we didn’t have to take it at all.
Instead, we spent our class period chatting, laughing, and blessing the soul of the teacher who had taken such great mercy upon us.
Today is a glorious day, my friends.