It all started in 9th grade, I think. These secret, conspiring conversations amongst all these young Convent School girls clad in green pleated skirts, ‘ujala’ white shirts and bright green ribbons. Who is Ms. Regina’s favorite? What about Ms. Cecily? Who do you think is Math Miss’s favorite? Of course, each of us wanted to be her favorite. Our Math teacher was awesome just like many other teachers. She would teach a complex math problem in a simple way with a small piece of white chalk on a black board. She would then give another sample problem for everyone in the class to try right then and there, as she waited patiently at her wooden desk, with her red pen scanning the classroom with her stern yet concerned look. A group of so called ‘brilliant girls’ (alias ‘munthiri kottai’s, which is a nick name for the handful of driven, insanely passionate, mathematic maniacs in that class), who couldn’t even wait for her to put the question mark at the end of the sample problem on the blackboard, as their pens would start buzzing in the rough column on their math notebooks, with divisions, multiplications, algebra equations, rummaging their memories to recall mathematic tables and shortcuts to additions and subtractions. There was no time to even look where your friend was, in their calculation or which step in the derivation of an equation or if their pen ran out of ink even if you happened to have a extra pen to spare! Absolutely not even a second to waste and all of a sudden at that auspicious moment when you have arrived at the answer, you walk up quickly praying in all fervor that you have the right answer as you rush to the Math teacher’s table to be first in line to get graded. The time between the stern scrutiny in eerie silence and that big red tick across the page with an accompanying note “V. Good” has sent my heart racing even more than the first time I heard the words “ I love you” for the first time! The 2nd person gets just ‘Good’ which technically for me or for any of the other ‘cashew nut’s (sounds more sophisticated in English) was not good enough! This is followed by a wave of hush and shush, smacking of lips and clicking tongues across the length of the classroom when the other ‘ordinary’ girls scratch their heads at their mortal mistakes and grave errors, while you feel like a queen delivering the right answer to the problem of all your subjects. What a feel!
On other occasions, when you hear a rustle of the green skirt and a pen drop in the pin drop silence that permeated the classroom, you invariably had your heart sink as you know you didn’t make it first to earn a ‘V. Good’ but perhaps just ‘Good’ for being second or third in line. Was the adrenaline rush worth it? Was all this math needed for future life, especially when you can’t calculate how much change you should collect from a $10 bill in the grocery shop, when you occasionally pay with cash?! 10 minus anything should be easy you would think! Most girls didn’t care about the utility of math in their current or future scenarios, even if they were going to be engineers, teachers, doctors or housewives. What mattered was the Red tick and the ‘V. Good’ or the ‘Good’, with the teacher’s initials and the approving smile on the teachers face! Ha! Even to think of it, sends my heart beaming with pride once again. But here is the beauty of this Math teacher – she would wait patiently until everyone comes to her table. She would correct those who did not do the math problem correctly and show them the right way to do it. Even if the bell rings she would wait till each student came up to her to ensure everyone got a chance to show their work to ensure they understood. Some girls got it quickly, some took time to get it while others were a total mess. She knew they were all different. Looking back, I realize that though she showed the correct way to solve the problem in less than 10 mins she had to wait patiently which seemed like eternity, for all of the children to understand what she actually solved on that little blackboard.
On other occasions perhaps in the middle of a serious lesson, you suddenly realize that the teacher is looking at you (or was she?) and teaching, while there are 70 others in the class room. Oh my! If only her gaze would fall upon you another time….that made your day. It made you think you were her favorite. I remember these girls in school who were class leaders or group leaders for the Four group colors we had – Red, Blue, Green, Yellow. While we all wore a beautifully crafted green metal school badge on top of our group color ribbons, which was kind of universal for all, some geeks would have extra badges for a ‘class leader’ or a ‘first in class’ based on their performance on mid-term exams. There were times when those three inch color ribbons would have no space to pin in all the badges which technically can be heavy on your chest and in the eyes of the so called ‘naughty’ girls who refuse to obey the command, “Be quiet girls. I am writing down your names for the class teacher of all who are noisy”. Many a times when my ribbon was full, I would envy how free the ribbons of other girls would fly brilliantly in the wind during Games ( P.T.) period, who were carefree to be themselves or be even a little unruly or rowdy. Just like the inverted V- shaped edge of the ribbons, the freedom to fly as you like was curtailed with more merit badges and responsibility. You had to set an example of something you actually were not at the core of your being. These badges made you representative of something higher than what you actually were. I had the ‘brat’ gene, if you know what I mean. I would be giggling and laughing in the absence of the teacher just like the others, if given a chance. Best part or the rather sad part was that nobody cared about the list of names so meticulously written of those who misbehaved in class for an entire 40 min period– not even the teacher who asked me to write! It was all a big drama. Or scam? Gosh!
Some teachers would walk into the class and then call someone by name to go collect all the notebooks of the class from the staff room which apparently they ‘forgot’! This felt like winning an election in a sense because all pairs of eyes are on that one girl who gets to walk out of the class (when no one in the whole school is out on the corridors), to enter that ‘sacred’ staff room that only teachers hang out. Between her exit and entrance back to the classroom, not a word of what the teacher says enters anyone’s brains especially if the ‘favorite’ girl is bringing back graded test notebooks. Can you imagine how that ‘someone’ would feel when picked and called out from a classroom full of bright eyed, equally lovely girls. Special. Very special, in fact. “Maybe I am her favorite”, guesses the soul. On a few rare occasions when my name was called I confess that the thought ‘Favorite’ did cross my mind. Retrospectively, looking back it was ‘child labor’ technically making children carry a heavy stack of books but I ‘forgive’ each one of these dainty teachers (who forgot to carry their class’ notebooks) though I haven’t ‘forgotten’ how it made me feel – very special like walking on water or sometimes even clouds!
All good things must come to an end. One occasion when I was called, that too by my favorite teacher, it was to stand outside the classroom as a punishment (Perhaps the ‘brat’ gene overtook my ‘common sense’ gene at a rare instance). Nooooo! I was too popular, too proud to stand outside the classroom with a patrol scarf as the blue house captain. Lo and behold! Did the primary kids have to cross the corridor only then? I stood tall as if I was enjoying the view outside and each one of the kids in the long line that passed me, wished me “Good morning captain’ as loud as possible, as they crossed the open door of the classroom, with me cringing inside with shame against the wall. My favorite teacher had to call me back in, to continue with her lecture. It all works out for good at the end, you see!
Have you been called out from a group before? Singled out amidst your family, friends, acquaintances or co-workers. Were you alone with no one on your side? Was it a moment to stand tall or stoop down? Did you feel significant or you wanted to seamlessly disappear? Was your voice heard or was it that you couldn’t hear your own voice? Did you feel incarnated or incarcerated? Were you crowned or cast down?
Several decades later, I had one unforgettable day when I felt abandoned, forsaken and just simply dismayed. Faint and limber and let down. One spiritual mentor called me to come over to his church as there was a special guest. Instead of curling up in bed crying, I decided to drive and meet this so called young pastor with a spiritual gift. There was big crowd around him after church service and he was having a golden cross in hand and praying for people one by one. I came to know that the pastor had prayed and fasted for several years and got his one wish from the Lord. He had granted him to give a comforting Word of Knowledge from God to His people when he prayed for them with the cross. Sort of like an answer to their desperate souls or their sad situation, I presumed. I didn’t want to pray. Neither did I want anyone to pray for me. I was in an “over and out” mood. I stood at the edge of the room but couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to my mentor who invited me. Everyone left and it was just me. The pastor with the cross looked straight at me and asked “Do you have a prayer request?” “No”, I said, rather glum with a ‘don’t care’ attitude. “Its okay, let me pray for you” he said and closed his eyes in silence.
I stood in silence as well closing my eyes, not looking forward to what he had to say. He uttered only one sentence. “The Lord says, You are His delight”. From worthless to worthy in an instant? I cannot explain how I felt or how I reacted or how I landed up in my car or at what speed I was driving back home. More than the car, the thoughts and questions were racing my mind. “Why would I be His delight? “ I am not even a delight for myself. I just coudn’t understand. As I drove several miles, I could not continue to ignore the tremendous joy that was welling up in my heart. It suddenly dawned on me that of all the creatures on the planet and of all the good people, who I stand nowhere close, by any measure or standard, God thinks I am His delight! I thought of my school days – my favorite teacher and how I wanted to be her favorite, how I tried so hard to please her and all the other people in my life to appreciate me, to value me and love me. But this was different – Here is the God of my teacher and everyone else I know literally, saying personally to me, “You are my delight”. What else do I need to hear in life? Who else do I need to impress? Apparently, I managed to impress God just the way I am!
A year ago, I visited an American friend at her lovely home with a swimming pool at her backyard. The entire house was filled with beautiful verses and promises of God. In the sunroom, I saw this wooden plank which said “I am God’s favorite”. Instantly the voice in my head retaliated, “What about me then? Am I not God’s favorite then? “You see! That is the beauty of this Omnipresent, Omniscient, Omnipotent God who can be at all places at all times, for whom a thousand years is a fleeting moment, a God who can be so close to each one at the same time. I hear you say ‘Hey! There can be only One favorite?” I understand your logic but today the Sovereign God of the entire Universe looks at you squarely in the eye and says “You are my favorite. Yes. Just as you are “.
If you don’t comprehend how everyone can be His favorite – try grasping this complex problem of humanity that was solved on a wooden cross. Sin divided God from you. The more you sinned the more you multiplied the distance from Him. So, why would the God of the Universe offer himself up to be tortured and crucified naked on a cross by men he created, for your sins? A difficult math, isn’t it? He died for each one of us. So YOU must be His favorite too, isn’t it? Why else would he die for you? He has solved the problem of sin that separated you from God. He has been waiting patiently for you to understand the incomprehensible math on the cross and the unimaginable sacrifice sin costed the Son of God, who himself said “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life” to eternity. God would be too cruel a God if he had other choices to give you to eternal life but still chose to nail His only son on the cross. The simple truth is – God loves you. Just come as you are. Even if you don’t get it, just look up at the cross! He still believes in you. The question is – Do you believe Him? His sacrifice for you? Now, that is a choice of free will that YOU get to make. He is a great Teacher and will wait till the last student comprehends His love. He wants to redeem your soul with his personal seal of salvation that was bought, not with cheap red ink but with His precious blood. Imagine Him calling you by name amongst all, and you choosing to ignore the highest honor of becoming the child of God. You are God’s favorite, my friend!