My Favorite Mistake~

12:01, 12:02, 12:03, 12:04. The bell rang as I quickly wrote down my last answer and raised my hand to turn in my quiz to the teacher. Uh oh…I hadn’t studied that much the night before, and I didn’t know how to answer many of the questions on the quiz.

Two days later, I walked into algebra class with worry plastered all across my face. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding so hard that I could hear it. We would be getting our quizzes back today. As my teacher walked toward my seat, I knew at that moment that this was NOT going to be good.

She placed the quiz on the table face down and I wordlessly flipped it over. My stomach sank as I saw the grade.

A 68.

SIXTY-EIGHT.

Sixty-eight, as in not even passing.

I knew I had done bad, but not THAT bad.

What were my parents going to say when they saw my grade? The first algebra quiz of the year, and I had failed it.

I quickly slipped my quiz in my binder and covered my face with my hands.

When I took my quiz home, my parents were actually surprisingly supportive. They helped
me correct my quiz and find out what I had gotten wrong, and why I had missed it.

Looking back, I realize that failing that quiz had actually helped me, instead of harming me. It taught me to study harder for quizzes and tests, and prepare for things like that earlier. I also learned what I still needed help on and what I didn’t understand. It was like a gift, giving me more knowledge, and if I had gotten a perfect score, I wouldn’t have learned at all. When I have another quiz, I’m sure that this mistake won’t happen again.