<br><br><center>![1024x768-3802989-models-wallpapers.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmfVtKrcX4piA7vSeksAhP4d4gF81zDPbHoL8FkVY9ENQe/1024x768-3802989-models-wallpapers.jpg)Miss Tracy</center>



<br><br>In trying to help my friend find the pupil who stole his magnifying lens, I got a rude awakening.

The tables were turned on me and the lens hidden inside my desk.

Miss Tracy said she knew it wasn’t me but I felt miserable and helpless.

I went home that day totally defeated and could only hope the next day things would be better

<br><br>But the next day at school, I was a pariah—shunned by all.

I sought out my older brother, Michael, in the sixth grade and spent the recess with him and his friends.

Donald McDonald, my tormentor, had not stopped taunting and accusing me.

<br><br>Miss Tracy quietly asked him to remain behind after we all went out to recess.

When we returned to class, Donald was sullen and dark. He had obviously been strapped.  His hands were red and swollen and he kept licking them until Miss Tracy put him out in the hall.

When we left for lunch, she gave me a look of profound sadness.

<br><br>I didn’t return that afternoon. I had a tummy ache and stayed home. Later, when school was out, all the neighbourhood kids were gathering leaves into a huge pile and jumping in.

We did this for about ten minutes until one of us saw Billie had found a mysterious black rock.

“It’s really weird, “ he said, “It’s warm to the touch. Watch this—”

<br><br>He struck the rock against the sidewalk and dull red sparks flashed out.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s a flint, stupid—like what they use in lighters to make a spark.”

Billy did seem to know quite a bit about making fire—in fact, all of us huddled around him in the gathering dusk watching him strike sparks.

We must have resembled the painting of cavemen in the library entitled, *Man Discovers Fire.*

<br><br>We each took a turn. Gradually, the house lights came on and each of us was called away to supper. Finally, it was only Billie and I left.

“Look, I can’t take this home—you know how my dad feels about fire.”

I nodded grimly.

“Hide it under your porch and we’ll play with it tomorrow.”

I nodded, just as we heard, *Billieee!* His mother was on the porch, beckoning him in.

<br><br>I was alone with the stone. What should I do? Something spectacular, for sure. I was tired of striking sparks.

I knew! *Throw it as high as I can and when it comes down and strikes the sidewalk—Who knows what might happen*?

I tossed it high to the stars, glimmering innocently above me in the purple sky. The rock described a perfect arch and came down with a mighty thud.

<br><br>A huge white star, an orb, the size of the great Communion Host Father O’Toole offered each Sunday, appeared.

The white host emerged from the rock and then whooshed like a spiral skyrocket, flying directly at my face. It halted and hung suspended in mid-air—right before my eyes.

I gazed into the paten and saw the image of Miss Tracy’s lovely face.

<br><br><center>© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>

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