A Blip on our School February Radar

Today shortly after the electricity went off at school, I heard a cheering, laughing outburst from the classroom where Mr. Schrock was teaching the German class. An intelligence report I got afterwards revealed that some wise student (demonstrating that amazing capacity for off-topic input that some students are really good at) had just rejoiced out loud that "Mrs. I probably hasn't run off our Anabaptist History quizzes yet, and that means we don't have to take it."

Wrong on both counts. I was so prepared for class, except that I had not yet printed out the study guide for the next day's assignment.

Ryan pled for extra minutes in the tiny window of time I always allow for looking up anything they want to look up during the quiz--usually only one minute, sometimes two--because "It's really dark and we can't see very well." I suggested he move over next to the window if he's having trouble.

All hope of special privileges evaporated when the electricity suddenly returned after about an hour's absence, and class resumed normally.

Back in the learning center, students had brought their lessons to the testing table where all the available candles were burning brightly--a concession to those students' plea to be allowed to "do something different" because the electricity was off. I still don't know what the girls' break time activity was, but it involved alternate shrieking and sneaking around the inside and outside edges of the sanctuary and learning center. As nearly as I could tell, they were scaring themselves silly.

On the radar of memorable days, this one registers as only a small blip, but on an undistinguished February-blahs screen, it was rather nice.