Lord, Give Me Strength! (Part 1)

Well, it all started when I sprained my knee and ankle........

I took motor cross lessons last Saturday and fell, spraining my knee and ankle. By Tuesday it wasn't hurting at all, even though I still had to wear crutches to school. Unfortunately, though, I had P.E. that day and my P.E. teacher is not exactly a nice man.

I asked my parents to write a note excusing me from all exercise involving my leg..... my dad argued that it wasn't necessary as one could tell that it was swollen and sprained just by looking at it and the crutches I was carrying in my hands. However, I wanted to be on the safe side and convinced my mom to write it just in case.

Feeling certain that I would be sent to the library to read a book while my classmates completed their lesson, I hobbled up the hill that led to the teache's office. Following my classmates slowly, I reached his office and went in to find him cleaning a chair. I swung over to face him and apologized, saying that I would be unable to participate in the P.E. He asked me why and I answered that I had sprained my knee and ankle while motorcrossing. Without glancing up, he asked if I had a note.... I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him.....

Stomping over to his desk, he skimmed over the note and looked  up at me for the first time, remarking that my parents were incompetent for allowing me to go to school instead of staying at home where I could elevate it. I could feel resentment rising inside of me, but I kept it in with an effort. He started shuffling through papers on his desk explaining that there was one particular article about sprains and strains that he wanted me to take home to my parents.

However, he soon realized that he had already given out all of the pamphlets on the topic. He turned towards his computer and started searching through different files stored on the desktop.  Arriving at the sought for file, he clicked on it and moved the curser to the button marked print; He clicked it four times.

Next he turned towards another pile of papers on his desk. Picking up the foremost one, he gave it to me along with a clipboard that was taken off of the wall. I glanced over it, trying to stop my tears from welling out- the words on the paper composed a series of essay questions about why I wasn't taking P.E.  Other questions required me to observe and compose about four paragraphs in total about what I observed my classmates doing during the lesson. I could scarcely keep from sobbing.

He soon made it clear to me that I was going to be required to fill out the form, but before that, I was supposed to go (on my crutches) down to the office and collect the papers from the secretary as he did not have a printer in his office. He informed me that I would have plenty of time to go and come back as it would take ten minutes to go through attendance and explain the task that would be set before them for the day. I could not believe my ears! Ten minutes! was he crazy? did he not realize that I was hobbling on crutches?

Determined not to cry or rebel, I set out down those steep steps, praying for guidance all the while; I tried in vain to suppress my tears! Seeing that there were some boys playing basketball on the hardcourt in their free time, I quickly dried my tears since I knew that they would probably see and ask me questions that I was not prepared to answer.

Finally reaching the office, I asked the secretary for the copies, she handed them to me with a comment about how cruel He was to make me come down for them with crutches. She also handed me a newsletter that I had not received yet. I quickly realized how hard it would be to carry the papers, let alone the newsletter that had an unbendable cover, all the way up to Hooke's office. Figuring that He would not mind me at least spending 1 min. to put the newsletter into my bag, I took a slight detour. Shedding a few tears in front of a class room, I was spotted by some younger students and a teacher, the teacher came out and asked if I was crying, but, I , not wanting to start sobbing, quickly shook my head.

 Contemplating telling my homeroom teacher and asking him to talk to my teacher, I quickly out-ruled that  idea as telling tales and continued on my way up to Him. Passing a high wall that was not very visible to people, I suddenly lost it. Then and there, I started sobbing. My body was literally heaving! (Now I know what it means when a heroine in a book startes heaving with sobs:) Trying to continue walking, I looked up and saw in front of me a classmate of my brothers. It was too late, I tried to turn back, but he had already seen me.

Immediately spotting the marks on my face which I was trying so hard to hide, He asked me what had happened. I pulled out the papers on sprains from my pocket and handed them to him with one word; " PE."
 Glancing at the paper I saw the instant realization coming into his eyes. He looked at me and said," I understand, and I am sorry. This happens all the time, it has happened to all of us! The good thing is; He is leaving after this term."
I still was sobbing, "You don't understand, it's not just that, he called my parents stupid for not having me stay at home..." I could see the compassion in his face, so I continued, " I am not sure if I should tell my form tutor." I explained. "I just don't want to be a 'snitch'."

Just then, as he was about to say something, the head master's right hand man/woman came up and asked me what the matter was. I looked at the boy, then at her. Without a word I switched the pamphlet from his hands to her's.

                                 To Be Continued