ABSTRACT
During the last two weeks of May, Madame Saint-Jean, our school principal, kept us after school for an extra hour of study in preparation for the exams we would be taking at the end of June. I was having difficulty concentrating on my work that day as her tall figure roamed between our desks. Her clear blue eyes seemed to see right through me. She had spent the best years of her teaching career in Lebanon and had a reputation for being a demanding teacher who would not let an unprepared student take the public exams. I was proud that she knew I would pass my exams with ease, but what if she could also see the turmoil inside me caused by problems at home? What if she knew I was counting the days until the exams, praying they would be over before things got completely out of hand?
