Report Card Day

***

When Miss Cupid announced to our third grade class that we’d be crafting dioramas for Science, I knew this wouldn’t be easy. Inspiration when it comes to science is hardly my strong suite. So while I eagerly awaited my epiphany, my classmates diligently began working. I asked Stanley—not exactly the model student—what he was making. I’M not gonna do it, he said, shrugging his shoulders..

Not making my diorama never once occurred to me. I always did my homework. Maybe not well, but I did it. But as the days passed by, still unable to conceive a plan, I decided that I wouldn’t make a diorama either. I never even mentioned to project to my parents.

Periodically over the next few weeks Miss Cupid (yes, this was her name), brought up our dioramas, asking how they were progressing. She never asked me personally, though. Evidently she expected that I’d approach her with any questions. This teacher intimated me any way. Didn’t like her. She played favorites and I definitely wasn’t hers. I thought about talking to her but it was easier just to not think about the stupid diorama. Stanley was my only encouragement but if you’d known Stanley, you’d understand that making an alliance with him was of little comfort.

The day our projects were due, our third grade class proudly lined up their dioramas on the counter—everybody, that is, except for Stanley and me. Miss Cupid glanced at me but didn’t’ say s word. In fact, she didn’t appear bothered at all. I found that a bit unsettling.

Weeks later Miss Cupid passed out our report cards at the end of the day. Ever since the day I was supposed to turn in my diorama I had this niggling feeling that this might really affect my grade. This project was the only thing we really did all semester in science class. Still, I reasoned—the best I could for an eight-year-old—that I’d be docked a grade or two for not completing my assignment. But since my parents knew I hated science, they wouldn’t expect any better than a ‘C’ so I had no worries.

Now that Miss Cupid was actually passing out our report cards, I grew anxious. I still thought I was right but as she approached, this look of consternation washed over her . . . I was in big trouble. Hesitant, I reached my hand into the manila jacket and pulled out the folded pink sheet. Slowly unfolding it, I gasped. Next to Science, Miss Cupid had written a bold blue ‘F’.

I’m dead.

Never, ever did I imagine Miss Cupid would give me an ‘F’ just because I hadn’t turned in my diorama. I was in no hurry to arrive home.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, feigning nonchalance as I entering the house.

“Hi, Gayle,” my mom answered cheerfully. “Isn’t today Report Card Day?”

Now I had planned on enjoying my afternoon snack before showing her, but now that she’d brought it up, there was no escaping. Without answering, I handed the envelope to her. She immediately noted the ‘F.’

“Why did you receive an ‘F’ in Science, Gayle?” she asks, clearly disappointed but not shocked the way I was. I remained standing and confessed my woeful tale how I wanted to do it, but couldn’t come up with any ideas, though I tried. I was smart enough to not belabor that though. That excuse sounded lame even to me.

My mom listened quietly, not saying a word. As I’m talking, I continue to imagine my punishment, just as I had been ever since opening my report card. I figured I might have to go to bed without dinner. Worse, I’d have to show my dad my report card myself when he came home from work. Maybe both. And that would be really bad, though my dad was a good, reasonable man. Just hated to disappointment my parents. That was the worst part. Or so I thought.

Finally, my mother rested my report card on the ironing board where she’d been working. In my mom’s matter-of-fact way, she looks me straight in the eyes and says: “Well, Gayle, unless you bring your science grade up to a ‘C’ by the end of the school year, you will not be going to Blue Bird camp this summer.”

Low blow. Worst blow. Crushed.

Blue Bird camp was all my friends were talking about these days. It would be the highlight of my summer. The most fun thing I’d ever done. I pleaded with my mom to change her mind. I offered her other choices, harder punishments. Longer punishments. But her decision was final. To argue now would result in further trouble. She was not gonna change her mind. With nothing left to say, I retreated to my bedroom and sobbed.

Now being sometimes stern but generally fair and gracious, too, the next morning as I ate breakfast, my mom suggested that I speak with Miss Cupid after school. She told me to tell her I was sorry, that I’d made a foolish choice. Ask her if you can do for extra credit to bring your grade up to a ‘C’ my mom said.

I don’t know if it was my imagination but it seemed Miss Cupid scowled at me all day. Felt like she was shooting poison arrows at me; not those nice love arrows as her name would imply. Took me the whole day to muster up my courage, but after all the kids had filed out of class, I approached Miss Cupid, shaking in my boots just like Dorothy and her friends facing the Wizard of Oz.

I told her everything I’d rehearsed. How sorry I was. I’d made a bad mistake. I tried to fight my tears and I did, too, because I just didn’t like Miss Cupid and didn’t want for her to see me cry. But it was so hard. I told her that if I didn’t make this right I couldn’t go to Blue Bird camp that summer and that would ruin my life.

Though initially unsympathetic, she actually grinned when I proposed an extra credit project to compensate for my folly. She suggested I gather different leaves from trees throughout the community, find out what they were and then mount them on a board and label them. I determined to make the best leaf collection she’d ever seen!

And I did, too. I got that ‘C’ in Science I so desperately needed. That summer I gleefully boarded the bus with all my little girl friends and headed off for Blue Bird camp.

I also didn’t pull such a stunt again.

So, can you guess the big lesson I learned? The one God still reminds of from time to time even now? Pretty simple.

We mere mortals aren’t smart enough to calculate the consequences of sin. Oh, we think we are. We certainly try. We fool ourselves into thinking we’ll beat the odds. Just because he was stupid enough to get caught, or she wasn’t careful, or he didn’t think things through, doesn’t mean that will happen to me, too. I’m smarter than that.

Whatever it is, we’re just so sure we can handle it.

Oh yea?

You and I can only see so far. We only know what we know. We’ll never outsmart God. The wisest thing you and I can do is try to see God’s heart, the reasons why He gave His laws in the first place. He loves us! Doesn’t want to see us get burned. And if we just don’t get one of His “rules,” that’s okay. He doesn’t expect us to. I didn’t get half the stuff my parents told me growing up. Still I trusted them. Same way with God, only a million times more.

Now, just like my mom, when we are short sighted and then fall into trouble, God is gracious to forgive and to cleanse our consciences. Helps us climb out of the pit we’ve created. Gives us a chance to make it right. But some things aren’t so easily made right. Our hearts can be made right through Christ, but not the circumstances necessarily. My mom didn’t have to suggest a way for me to still be able to go Blue Bird Camp and Miss Cupid certainly didn’t have to give me a second chance.

It was the mercy of each that allowed me to go. Guess that’s the other thing I learned. Neither my parents nor my teacher owed me that.

Just can’t calculate sin. I’m lying if I say I never try. But thankfully, those times are becoming more infrequent as the years go by. Presuming on God’s grace is really a foolish thing to do. God loves me and His ways are good. I love Him, too. I want to trust Him. Plus, there’s freedom in obedience.

Have a great day. Supposed to be sunny and 72 degrees! Yea!

What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of? Those things result in death. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:21-23)