Dear lord of statistics,
If you exist, if you really do exist, please let me pass tomorrow’s exam.
You know I don’t love you. I don’t expect you to love me too.
Just give me a decent mark tomorrow. Please. Just. give. me. that. mark.
And you know that I hate you. But for tomorrow, can you please forget every curse I’ve uttered while studying your grand theories? I couldn’t help it. Your wisdom is too great for my poor brain to comprehend. You are truly great. The greatest, even.
And if it’s not too much to ask, let me pass tomorrow’s exam with good marks. After tomorrow you will never, ever, ever see me ever again. I promise.
I know that you are merciful, wise, and graceful. I know you are. I hope you will not fail me.
Dear lord of luck,
I don’t have Felix Felicis. I need to be in Hogwarts to have one. But I still hope that you will grand me your luck. Because for tomorrow, I really need that.
It’s a 60 multiple-choice-question paper, and considering I have 25% chance of guessing the right answer (because it’s quite impossible to narrow it down to 50-50, let alone believing 100% which one is the right answer), I will need a lot of luck. Lots and lots of it.
I know you have so much luck in store, I just wish you could be gracious enough to give me that drop of Felix Felicis.
Now I lay me down to study,
I pray the Lord I don’t go nutty.
And If I fail to learn this junk,
I pray the Lord I do not flunk.
And If I die, don’t bury me at all.
Just lay my bones in the study hall,
and pile my books on my chest,
and tell my Profs I did my best.
So now I lay me down to rest,
and pray I pass tomorrow’s test.
And If I die before I wake,
that’s one less test I have to take.
Ps. The last prayer is titled “A Student’s Prayer”, written by unknown.