The Spelling Bee

My daughter Skye is a fairly good speller. Last year she came in third at the school's spelling bee, and she has made it again to the all-school bee. As a 4th grader she can now move on to district wide competition if she wins. I hate watching her compete. The room is silent and I am hanging on every letter that comes from her lips. The tension as a parent is horrific.

When I was her age I was in the school spelling bee too. And I'll be sharing this story with her when she comes home today (I wrote it for a magazine in 1994). I hope it will encourage her and perhaps you as well.

The Spelling Bee
A STORY BY MARK MATLOCK

It was decided. I would be competing in the first annual E. J. Marshall spelling bee. I had won the preliminary competition and was to be the representative for my class in the all-school spell-off!

Finally. This was my shot at fame and fortune.

Since this was our first-ever spelling bee, my name would naturally be inserted into the the very first space on the E. J. Marshall All School Spelling Bee Plaque. Then, each following year, a name would be added—under mine of course.

As far as fortune goes, I would also receive a fifty dollar savings bond. And my class would get a roller skating party at Skateway, the coolest hangout in town.

I wanted to win. I needed to win. I was going to win.

Training was rigorous. I spelled everything I could. “M-O-M, where are my C-L-O-T-H-E-S? D-A-D, could you pass the S-U-G-A-R?”

When the night of the spelling bee finally arrived, I knew I was ready. All the parents came, and even many of my classmates showed up to cheer me on.

The head judge leaned into the microphone and asked me, the first contestant, to approach the microphone. She read my word, used it in a sentence, then repeated the word: “Rather. I would “rather” go to the zoo. Rather.”

Easy. I repeated the word, spelled it, and waited for the signal to return to my seat.

But something was wrong. The judges looked at me funny. They looked at each other. Then they talked with one another in low tones. The head judge moved back to the microphone, “I’m sorry, that was incorrect. You are disqualified.”

WHAT?! I returned to my seat, horrified. What had I done wrong? I had spelled the word correctly. I knew it.

For the next hour and a half, I watched as others spelled word after word correctly, and I tried to figure out what my mistake had been. What had I misunderstood? Was it spelled R-A-T-H-A-R? Did she say “adder?” There was an “adder” at the zoo? What had gone wrong?

Afterwards, my parents approached me to see if I knew why I had been disqualified. In my confidence, I had spelled the word A-T-H-E-R. I forgot the “R” at the beginning!

No skating party. No savings bond. No plaque with my name on it. How could I face my friends at school?

I didn’t know this verse at the time, but I wish I had. Psalm 73:26, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
It didn’t matter that I had made a major blunder. Even if my friends reject me (which they didn’t), God is my strength. You, too, will fail in life. But it’s good to know that God never will fail us.