Unfiltered Story #279569

When I was young, I read every waking second I could. In third grade, my school held a “competition.” That’s what they called it at least. The rules were simple: Read three books off of an award list and pass the reading quiz at the end, with different lists for each grade level, and you got to go to an ice cream party at the end of the competition.

I was the only one in my class to get to go to the ice cream party. My teacher dropped me off in the library before third period and went back to the classroom.

When I had gotten my bowl of ice cream, the librarian approached me, and said, “You did so good! Why don’t you go back to your classroom with your ice cream, and show everyone what they’re missing?”

I, being a rather timid third grader, agreed, and walked back across campus alone. To an empty, dark classroom. Third period was art room time.

I sat and ate my “celebratory” ice cream alone in the dark (the light switches in the old building were too hard for me to flip), and next week during library time, there were posters up about not leaving without a buddy.