In Grade 3, for a reason I can’t remember, and one I’m sure doesn’t matter, we all had soft drinks brought to us, after ordering the drink we wanted. So, the appropriate drinks came to the class, and I patiently let everyone else get theirs first. (Maybe I was forced to wait until last, I’m not sure.) Anyway, when my turn finally came around, the drink I got was not the one I’d asked for. Either they got the order wrong, or someone else changed their mind and took mine. Heck, for all I know, I was the one that made a mistake. Anyway, I started yelling and crying about it.
So one of the girls in my class, we’ll call her Shanéné, offered to switch with me. That meant a lot to me, and though I still talk to her sometimes, I’m not sure I’ve ever told her this. The teacher was also proud of her, and told her she could have a prize sticker, in a system similar to the one described in #15. When this happened, it was one of those moments when I recognize that I really had to mature a little, but I’m pretty sure it passed.