I will always remember the day. I was in fourth grade (one of the two years I wasn’t homeschooled and went to a private Christian school). It was Friday afternoon, and I sat back in my desk only half listening to the teacher. After all, it was the time every week when she passed out spelling tests. She always announced the grades of those who got a 100 or higher (bonus word were extra points), and then those kids would go up and get a piece of candy from the jar. Now, my name NEVER got called. I was lucky I wasn’t failing spelling. Seriously, I couldn’t spell to save my life. But that day… I had to do a double take when she called my name off. A 103%??? How is that even possible!?! I jumped out my seat and bounded to the front of the classroom to get my test and a piece of candy. I got a piece of candy! I carefully selected a piece of gum (you know, those hard ones that come in the cheap bags of candy?). Well, I chewed that thing until my jaw hurt and then kept chewing. Even set it on the side of my plate during dinner and popped it back in. Didn’t throw it out until bed time. That piece of gum was precious to me. All because it proved I wasn’t a complete failure.

But I still hated spelling. I hated studying for a test. I hated trying to memorize a stupid list of words that I knew I was just going to forget anyway. Of course my only hope was to memorize them, because that was at least one thing that came more easily to me. Read More