Nadine

Awkward, shy and pimply; I had one saving grace – academics.  Mr. Marcus returned my test paper – 95, well done!  Nadine commented loudly from three rows away, “I don’t know why she got two points higher than me.” A Cheshire cat grin pointed my way just to show she was kidding. Many tests had similar outcomes, with me getting slightly higher grades than Nadine.  I thought nothing of it, perhaps because my grades were higher, but Nadine’s snide comments continued, “The teacher probably just likes her more” or “I know I’m smarter than her.” They weren’t bullying comments as many are bound to conclude, they were simply bitter, hurtful attempts to assuage her jealousy and insecurity.  I was too young to realize this and too shy to say anything.  I wanted the remarks to stop and used the approach of ignoring her comments, which didn’t work.  It just made me feel weak.  I craved getting back at her yet had no tools in my armory; but Nadine had it coming. 

One of my favorite quotes is from The Alchemist, by the Brazilian author, Paulo Coelho who wrote, “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it”

At the end of 9^th grade we were both inducted into the Arista Honor Society at our Junior High School.  It was an elaborate, formal ceremony held in the auditorium. Our families were invited to the auspicious occasion marked by ritual.  We were awarded pins and were required to wear long, dark robes.  The ceremony opened with all the honor society inductees marching in silence, in the dark, down the aisles to the stage.  To illuminate our path we were all given tall, white candles.  All the lights in the auditorium were dimmed and we lit our candles and walked slowly and somberly to the stage.  We held our candles at our breast with the glow just slightly illuminating our faces.  I marched a few paces behind Nadine.  She was so proud to be recognized for her intelligence that she held her candle extra proudly.  And wanting to make sure that her face was visible held her candle slightly higher than recommended.  Midway down the aisle the marching momentarily paused and there was a commotion ahead of me with a flurry of teachers.  Apparently, Nadine, holding her candle a little too high had set her bangs on fire.  It wasn’t a very big fire and was quickly doused by some quick thinking adult fingers.  Our march resumed shortly thereafter and we all walked proudly on stage.  I slyly peered over at Nadine to my right.  She was surreptitiously plucking at her hair.  In fact, she spent the rest of the ceremony sniffling and quietly picking at the burnt edges of her bangs.  Back in class the following week and weeks till the end of the school year I don’t recall if she ever threw any barbs my way.  She may have but the effect was gone.  The universe had conspired to get me what I desired and it wasn’t a dish served cold, rather it was flaming.