A gentle knock sounded at the principal’s office door. Mrs. Mann looked up. “Come in.”

The door swung open slowly. Chani Shwartz, a 12th-grader, stood in the doorway.

“I’m sorry for disturbing, Mrs. Mann,” she said respectfully.

“Not at all,” her principal replied cordially. “What’s on your mind?”

Seeing that Chani did not move, Mrs. Mann gestured to the chair in front of her.

Seating herself, Chani leaned forward earnestly. “It’s about Convention.”

Mrs. Mann’s eyebrows rose. “Yes?”

Every year, ten 12th-graders were chosen to represent the school at the annual Bais Yaakov convention. As this year’s 12th grade included an unusually large group of worthy candidates, many members of the administration felt that the representatives should be chosen by lottery. Mrs. Mann personally did not agree with this idea but she went along with it. Chani was a lucky winner of this raffle, and she deserved it, too.

Chani hesitated and her eyes darted around the room, landing briefly on the large painting of the Kosel.

“I’d rather not go,” she said firmly.

Mrs. Mann nodded slowly, successfully concealing her surprise.

“May I ask why?”

Chani clasped her hands together. “I want to give up my slot to Nechama. But please don’t tell her!” she added hurriedly.

Mrs. Mann deliberated for a moment. Nechama was G.O. President. Generally the two G.O. heads got automatic slots to Convention. This year, as a result of the raffle, only one of the girls was going. Nechama Goldner would not be attending.

“There’s no guarantee that if you give up your slot, it will go to Nechama,” she said finally.

Indecision played on Chani’s features. “I know that Nechama really wants to go. Does she have a better chance of going if I give up my slot?”

Mrs. Mann sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, Chani. Yes, there is a very good chance she would get the slot if you back out. But are you sure you want to do this? It’s very admirable for you to offer to give up the slot, but later on you may end up regretting it.”

Chani studied her hands for a moment. Then she looked up at her principal.

“I know,” she said quietly. “But I want to do it. Is it possible that it could be worked out?”

Mrs. Mann drummed her fingers on the desk, deep in thought. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the idea. I would like to see if another solution can be found.” Mrs. Mann smiled gently. “That being said, I must say I’m impressed with your attitude and your concern.”

Chani blushed.

“I think you should go back to class now,” Mrs. Mann continued briskly. Chani stood up.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Mann,” she said earnestly. The principal nodded and Chani left the office, closing the door quietly behind her.

Barely two minutes had elapsed before another knock was heard on the door.

“Come in,” she called again.

The door opened quickly.

“Mrs. Mann? May I speak to you for a moment?” Etti Reiner, the other G.O. head, entered in her usual hurry, neglecting to wait for a response.

The principal hardly had time to state her affirmation before Etti rushed into her monologue.

(Excerpted from Teen Pages, Issue 748)