We moved to a different town just as I entered junior high school. Making the transition from elementary school to junior high is a tough experience for any twelve-year-old, but mine was a disaster.

 

There were eleven of us "new" kids, and for the first two days we were tested to see if we could fill-in the right little bubbles with marks from number 2 pencils.

 

On the morning of the third day we were told to report to the Vice Principal’s office for our class schedule. It was a pink slip class schedule with room numbers and teacher’s names, but no map. The clock was ticking, and I had no idea where Room 17 was. I was late and new and lost.

 

By the time I found Room 17, I was terrified. I waited outside the door for a few seconds, trying to collect the courage to walk in. Believe me, I wanted to run away to Australia.

 

Then, at the moment I opened the door, the class erupted in laughter. I knew they were laughing at me. My skinny frame sported thick horn-rimed glasses and embarrassing new "tin-grin" braces. Not daring to look up, I walked over to the teacher with my eyes fixed on his shoes.

 

When I handed Mr. Bell my pink slip, Mr. Bell responded, "Oh, no!"

 

I was stunned, frozen in rejection. He pointed to a chair by the door and said, "Sit there for now. We'll see about getting you a desk tomorrow."

 

At the time I was sure it was all about me, but it was really about a funny comment from one of the kids, lousy timing, and an overcrowded classroom. I sat there, never lifting my eyes, replaying Mr. Bell’s words over and over in my mind. “Oh, no.” He didn’t want me in his class.

 

As soon as the bell rang I bolted out the door and headed for my next “rejection” room, hoping the day would get better, but feared it won’t. Then, I noticed I had Mr. Bell for Science and Math in the same now infamous "rejection” room. Where was God in all this?

 

He was there I just missed him. It wasn't the first time and it sure wasn't the last time. Sometimes he is hard to sense when you are in the middle of pain.

 

Oh, by the way, my Junior High school’s name? Downer Junior High. I painfully felt every nuance of the name.