As I turned the corner, I could smell success.

Yeasty.

I could see success.

The curved tops gently rising above the pans were clearly visible even under a towel.

I couldn’t wait. I had to examine success.

I peeled the towel back slowly. Yes, all three are rising nicely.

I decide to wait. They aren’t quite ready to bake. After all, it is only 7 am and dinner is not until 5 pm.

At 9, there is no more time to wait. The oven is preheated. The timer is set.

I smelled success.

I could smell it browning. I could envision the outside gently turning brown as the timer counted down.

The aroma filled the house.

I can envision the sights, smells and even words that will surround eating homemade bread with lasagna and the “spring break kids” later today.

Success in baking.

Success in family gathering.

It was easy to define success. The bread rose. The bread was baked. The bread was sliced. We enjoyed eating it. We laughed and talked all through our dinner.

No grade.

Real life.

When should school be more like LIFE? Joyous? Real expectations?

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Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for this daily forum during the month of March. Check out the writers and readers here.