Best Prize

My last class before Christmas vacation

is science. We’re doing an experiment

to distill wood, and the room smells like burning leaves.

“Time to finish up, people,” Mrs. Stanton says.

Linda, my lab partner, and I quickly write down our results

and finish up.

The bell rings for the last time

of 1969, and we start to leave the room.

Mrs. Stanton says, “Mimi, please stay for a few minutes.”

Stacey and I are going to town after school

to shop for presents and eat sundaes,

so she says she’ll wait at her locker.

Mrs. Stanton sits at the desk next to me.

“I wanted to talk to you about something

before we all go on vacation.”

She’s smiling a different smile than Mr. MacDougall’s.

“You remember what happened last spring

with your science project?”

I say, “How could I forget?”

“That was unfortunate,” she says,

“but I was so impressed with your project—

you went above and beyond what you needed to do

for the grade.

And I know it was a great disappointment

when your moon . . . disappeared.

Many other people were, too.”

She goes to her desk, “I hope

what I have to tell you will make up for that.”

Mrs. Stanton hands me an envelope,

which has my name on it.

“At the end of school last spring,

I nominated you to join a group of students

from all over the country”—

It keeps sounding better and better—

“to go to Cape Kennedy this summer

and learn about the space program.”

“Me?” I ask.

She nods, and points to the envelope. “Open it.”

Inside is a letter addressed to me

that says exactly what she told me.

“Thank you so much,” I say, my heart fluttering. “But . . .

how much will it cost?”

Mrs. Stanton smiles and says, “It’s a scholarship program.

All expenses, including your housing and food,

and travel to and from Florida,

are paid by the scholarship.”

I didn’t win first prize last spring, but this is

the best prize.

Then I do what I never thought I’d do

to Mrs. Stanton. I hug her.

She laughs

and says, “I guess that means you want to go.”