Quizzy and the Lesson Beyond Books
Meadow Elementary School was a place filled with learning, laughter, and discovery. Before the bell rang each morning, the hallways would come alive with the cheerful chatter of bright-eyed students eager to begin another day of learning. In Room 555, Mrs. Watson’s classroom, one wall was lined with cubbies where the students stored their backpacks and lunchboxes.
At the very top of the cubbies was a small hidden space between the ceiling and the ledge. It was there that a little Magikito with pointy ears named Quizzy lived. Quizzy spent his time hidden away, observing the class and soaking up all the knowledge Mrs. Watson shared with her second graders.
Although he spent his days observing, Quizzy had an important job. He would care for and tend to the classroom books. Each day after the students and Mrs. Watson had gone home, Quizzy would quietly get to work. If a page had torn, Quizzy would carefully mend it, fitting the torn edges back together like pieces of a puzzle. If a binding had come loose, Quizzy would carefully sew it back together. And if a book’s pages had gotten wet, Quizzy would carefully spread them out like the wings of a bird so they could properly dry.
He was always careful, and he loved every second of his job. Quizzy would return every book to its proper place on the shelf. The students would find their assigned books right where they had left them. Each night after performing his duties, Quizzy would pick up one of the books and open it for one good last whiff, because he loved inhaling the rich smell of the earthy pages. Then he would routinely stand back to admire his work like an artist admiring his masterpiece. He would look at his books neatly lined up in a row, looking like a line of little soldiers standing at attention.
“Great formation, lads,” Quizzy would say playfully to the books before giving a salute and doing the soldiers’ march back to his ledge. Quizzy had a deep love for books, but he also loved the students. He knew that Mac was very loud and moved through the classroom like a bull in a china shop. Quizzy found himself repairing Mac’s book more often than the others.
Then there was Lila, a very sweet girl who had a way of making everyone feel accepted and at ease. And Quizzy kept a close eye on the boy who sat next to her, Jay. He was the star student, and he thought very highly of himself. Quizzy loved his confidence, but Jay had a habit of making others feel bad when they struggled.
Every day they would take turns reading aloud from their books, and it was Lila’s turn to read. As usual, she became quite nervous. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began to read. “The dog went missing,” Lila stuttered. She tried her best to ignore Jay giggling, but he did sit right beside her, and that made it difficult. Lila’s face began to turn red as embarrassment filled her from the inside, rising from her neck to her cheeks like water filling a glass. And just like that, she was discouraged and politely asked if the next person could go. “Okay, Jay, go ahead and take over. You better hope that you don’t mess up,” she said.
Quizzy could tell she was indirectly trying to suggest that nobody is perfect, but her subtlety was lost on Jay. Jay sat up straight and made a point to make eye contact with Lila before he began to read, as if to say, “Watch how it’s done.” He cleared his throat and effortlessly began reading the words aloud, beaming with pride, dripping with arrogance. Quizzy was fed up. He became so angry that it felt like steam was coming out of his pointy ears. “That’s it,” Quizzy muttered, and he started forming his plan.
That afternoon, when the students and Mrs. Watson had gone home, Quizzy jumped down from his hiding place above the cubbies. He raced across the classroom floor toward Jay’s assigned book to execute his plan, and it was a masterful one, if you asked him.
The next day came, and it was time once again to take turns reading aloud. It was Jay’s turn in rotation. Jay sat up straight just as he always did, and exuded confidence as he cleared his throat. “Weeks passed, and the boy—” Jay stopped.
Something very strange was happening. The letters before him began to morph and dance across the page. They moved like tiny ants in every direction, scrambling until he couldn’t make any sense of it. He chuckled nervously and rubbed his eyes before looking again. Blank. The page was completely blank. He looked around the classroom. A few students stared at Jay with their mouths gaping open, and a few students quietly giggled just like Jay did when Lila had stumbled before. Lila looked at him like he had just spoken in tongues, and one of her eyebrows raised higher than the other. Mrs. Watson narrowed her eyes and gave Jay a stern look, as if she thought he was putting on a show to mock the other students. Jay never felt so judged or embarrassed. “You can skip me,” he muttered under his breath.
After an awkwardly long silence, the next student picked up where Jay had left off. Lila placed her hand gently on top of his and whispered, “It’s okay. We all mess up sometimes. You can try again tomorrow.” Jay avoided eye contact and looked at his book again. He sifted through the pages desperately for a page without this defect, and then he saw it. One sentence magically appeared before his eyes, almost as if a ghost were writing on the page in front of him. It was barely legible, chicken scratch, and intended just for him. How does it feel? Treat others the way you want to be treated. Jay stared at the page, completely stunned. Did his book just communicate with him? He spent the rest of the day spooked, his complexion paler than the chalk on the chalkboard. He thought about all the times he had made fun of Lila for stumbling over her words. For the first time in his life, he felt regret for the way he had acted.
The next day in class, the students were once again taking turns reading aloud. It was Lila’s turn, and she felt the familiar knot in her throat as she began to read. “Since his return, the boy wondered what had…” Lila paused. Then Jay did something that caught Lila by surprise. He leaned toward her and quietly said, “Break down the word and just breathe. You got this.” The knot in Lila’s throat began to loosen and slowly untangle. She felt at ease, and for the first time ever, she felt understood by her classroom neighbor. “Since his return, the boy wondered what adventures the dog had gone on without him.” Jay couldn’t help it. He let out a loud “Woo!” The entire class laughed, Mrs. Watson and Lila included. But this time, the laughter of his fellow students didn’t make him feel small. He felt really good, and Lila felt good too. She mouthed the words “Thank you” to Jay, and Jay leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head, feeling more accomplished than he had ever felt before.
From his little hiding place above the cubbies, Quizzy watched everything unfold, and he too felt accomplished. A warm, tingly feeling washed over him like a gentle ocean wave, and his tiny spectacles fogged up from the tears in his eyes. Quizzy had always secretly thought of himself as Mrs. Watson’s teaching assistant, and this confirmed his role in the classroom. He made a vow that he would continue watching, even as new students came to Mrs. Watson’s class in the years to come. Mrs. Watson would do her job, and Quizzy would help her by doing his. Because sometimes there are lessons that can’t be taught from a book.
