Today’s post is one of a series of guest memoir posts being written at Michelle DeRusha’s blog for the launch and release of her new book, Spiritual Misfit: A Memoir of Uneasy Faith. I am His Beloved Misfit.
When I turned six, my sister was two days old. She was and is the sweetest gift I’ve ever gotten for my birthday. Shortly after her birth, she was re-hospitalized, we moved across the state, rented a home, and started building a new one, and I started first grade.
Back then I was a shy little girl, but I was also gregarious to some small degree. At least in my memory I was. My first grade teacher was Ms. Hitchcock. I was a kindergarten dropout due to my sister’s birth and illness, and it was my first experience in a “real” classroom with a desk. The desks were lined in rows, and I sat behind the only girl I had officially met before, Stacey from church. I liked to talk to Stacey from church as well as David, the teacher’s nephew. I talked so much I got in trouble.
The first time was no big deal. Ms. Hitchcock yelled a little and reprimanded me. My face flushed red, and I got quiet. The second time I got caught talking was different. She got in my face and yelled, and then forcefully, my desk and me went on a ride from the back of the room to not just the front of the room, but outside the room by the door. I don’t remember much about after, but I was humiliated.
Just finished reading your post at Michelle’s place. How beautiful…what a lovely story of grace. Thank you for sharing.