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Fyodor Dostoevsky, a famous Russian novelist, once said, “ The soul is healed by being with children.” I could not agree more.

They were so pure, so innocent, and bundles of joy to be with—almost like a healing balm. Their energy was pure and uninhibited, which filled me with a sense of peace. Being around them reminded me of everything good and pure, like when the world first began, unraveling itself like flower petals, unfolding and tilting toward the sun to be fed, and aging as the hands on the clocks ticked by.

Every moment with them was worth it: watching them play, hearing their giggles as they chased each other around, and helping them learn, even when they were mischievous and testing boundaries. Their curiosity, laughter, and boundless energy were infectious, and I found myself smiling more and laughing more just from being in their presence. In times like that, I felt lighter and happier, as if being around them had the power to lift all the heaviness from my shoulders.

A past like mine should have altered the way I perceived the world and the way I perceived children. But my traumatic shock worked differently than the rest. With the little ones, it wasn’t just joy; it was this overwhelming contentment, a feeling that no matter what else was happening, in that moment, everything was exactly as it should be.

Twisting on my black ballet flats, my heart raced with undiluted happiness. I stole a few extra seconds to design a bolded “WELCOME, NEW BATCH!” on the green board and turned around. Outside, the clouds were an angry shade of dark grey. Harsh winds blew against the trees, and drops of eager June rain fell on the freshly mowed field. The rain hit the windows like they were searching for a way in while chairs and desks scraped the floor.

Once they settled, I took a deep breath and exhaled, expressing all the bubbling joy from within with a delightful clap of my hands and curve of my lips.

“I officially welcome you all to the sixth grade, my young champions! My name is Ms. Serena Skye, and I’ll be your guide and travel companion during excursions, of course, and confidant for the rest of the year. Or you can call me your teacher.”

They laughed, teeth shining, and hearty giggles warming up the chilly room as the entire class of forty young students came alive.

“I am so thrilled to see you all here today.”

I scanned the room, making eye contact with each student. Their expressions weren’t new to me. While some looked eager, others were apprehensive. Still, between them, I knew if I looked hard enough, I would see the similar cord binding them all together, the shared concern about how well they intended to pass through this phase of their lives, what would become of them, and what the new phase will be like.

At some point in our lives, we’ve all had that fear, that ringing “Am I good enough?” question that haunted our thoughts whenever we were launched into a new grade, level, or opportunity.

But that was why I was here, to hold their hands and reassure them that the world was under their feet as long as they were determined and ready to soar.

“I want to assure you that this year will be an incredible journey. We’ll explore new subjects, discover hidden talents, and grow together. I promise to be patient with you, to support you, and be here to guide you every step of the way, however I can.”

A skinny hand shot up in the air.

I smiled at him. “David, is it?” In the previous grade, he’d been a very particular kid, so I’d learned about him. “I studied your file, just in case you’re wondering how I know your name already. I know all your names.”

The blond boy with clear-sky blue eyes and the cutest set of dimples rose from his seat with a surprising charm I believed he must have mastered from an adult.

“Ms. Skye,” a wobbly smirk formed on his mouth, and he struck a pose, driving his fingers through the short strands of his hair, “I must say you are looking exceptionally stunning this morning in that honey-bee sweater. Striped yellow is definitely your color, and the shining sun does not hold a candle to your beauty.”

In the fifth grade, a blanket of diamond stars twinkled in Garcia’s eyes. In the fourth grade, the galaxy should have laid at Rhea’s feet because of her commanding aura. Folding my arms, my lips curved to the side, a charmed smile coming through. David Rodriguez, popularly known as the ‘young charmer.’ At his young age, he already had a reputation for letter-bombing his female teachers with customized compliments. They joked that we might have ourselves a 21 st -century Shakespeare. And while his child-like admirations had been investigated and proven to be completely harmless, the rest of the class seemed to disagree with his smooth moves.

Low chatter and a few murmurs started spreading between the students, and, one by one, they started raising their heads to engage in what they expected to be another teacher-student moment. In a short while, the classroom buzzed, filling the air with more excitement.

“ Oh, my God, why must I endure this torture every year?” Salome, a chubby and vibrant school enthusiast, groaned and flicked her auburn braided ponytail at the twelve-year-old culprit. Clearly, she was not enjoying the distraction. “Sit down, David. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, and there’s no color called striped yellow . Get your facts straight before standing up to embarrass yourself.”

“That’s what you think, but I tell you, there are many, many colors you are yet to discover because you are too stuck up to observe.” He rolled his eyes and hurriedly flashed me a smile. “Pay her no heed, Ms. Skye. She’s only jealous because I have never given her a compliment.”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “I’m sure that’s not the case, David. Salome is not stuck-up.” It was important to start ridding the air of possible negative energy before the conversation turned south. “And you aren’t embarrassing yourself.”

Salome stuck her tongue out at him and offered me an apologetic smile.

“Anyway, thank you for the compliment. It was thoughtful of you. But you,” I amplified my voice, staring at them one after the other, “and the rest of the class should know that, while freedom of expression is encouraged here, you have to understand the timing, okay? There is time for everything: time to learn, to play, to squabble, and to exist in peaceful harmony. Is that okay?”

With a satisfied tip of his chin, he returned to his seat, nodding in agreement with the rest of the students. “Yes, Ms. Skye.”

“Good. Now, let’s get started on our first day together. I’m so excited because I know we’re going to achieve great things together this year.”

I moved around the class, ignoring the view through the windows of colorful and brightly muted flashes of lightning ripping through the stormy skies, while I handed each one of them a bright blue folder. “Take a few minutes to look through this. It’s got all the essential info for the year. This blue folder will be our communication lifeline, so keep it handy.”

While they reviewed the materials, I memorized some students’ names, matching them to their faces and distinguishing features. There was Emma, with bright pink Alice in Wonderland hair clips; Jake, sporting a faded baseball cap; Maria, with an open vibrant sketchbook on her desk; and a few others, whose names I easily remembered.

“Done?”

“Done,” they echoed.

“Alright, now that you’ve had a chance to look over the folder, let’s do a quick activity that will help us relax before we launch into some more serious stuff, okay?”

A few of them in the back dropped their heads on the desk, groaning about “never-ending boring school work and activities,” which made me laugh.

“I promise, it’ll be fun.” The lot of them looked on eagerly, waiting for the next word to leave my mouth. Even I was more elated than the expectant students. “Take out your notebooks because now.... Now, you’ll be writing a letter—”

“I knew it,” a dark-haired boy named Nico with siren eyes laughed, bringing out his notebook and taking the tip of his pen between his teeth. “Ms. Garcia made us write letters on our first day in fifth grade, addressing the school and seeking permission to use the basketball court during a few periods for recreational learning , she called it.”

“Meanwhile, she just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend,” entered Lucien, Nico’s best friend.

I frowned. “Her boyfriend?”

“Mr. Marcelo.” He cackled, earning a few lingering stares and blushes from a few of the girls in class. “She thought we wouldn’t figure out that they were dating.”

“ Oh, my God, these creatures!” Salome groaned again. “Will the two of you please shut up and allow Ms. Skye to finish?”

They glared at her but didn’t speak anymore.

Apparently, she was the only girl immune to the boys’ charms.

I made a small noise in appreciation and raised a brow at the cool kids, who thought they were know-it-alls.

“Well, that was the fifth grade.” And it was no secret that Garcia and Marcelo had the hots for each other. Despite a few rules the school fixed regulating relationships between parent-to-teachers and teachers-to-teachers, the whole school knew. But…. “Ms. Garcia’s private life is none of our business, kids. Let’s focus on writing those letters, addressing them to ourselves.”

Salome wore a confused pout. “To ourselves?”

“Yes.” I smiled at her and the rest of the class. “I want you all to write a letter to yourselves about whatever you want. Or something you’d like to look back on and smile about after you complete middle school.”

“Interesting,” Nico remarked and wasted no time in starting his letter.

The class joined in, surprisingly excited to pen down their thoughts and show me. Pens tapped on the desk, students hummed, chairs scraped the floor, lightning flashed through the skies, and in half an hour, I had more hands in the air than we could entertain. Smiling, I selected one of the girls at the far end of the class.

She stepped out, clutching her letter in a death grip, but met my eyes with a shy smile.

Twelve-year-old Angela Lou. She had glowing brown skin, a big mane of dark hair falling behind her back, and the brightest pair of amber eyes I had ever seen. In her records, she was always quiet.

“Go on, Angela,” I cajoled. “Please read your letter to the class. I’m sure it’s lovely.”

Stepping aside, I offered her the center stage, and quietly, she lowered her eyes to her paper.

The class went almost eerily silent, and every eye locked on the pretty star in the spotlight. Then, her melodious voice pierced through the silence, punctuating the air with an emotional, “ Dear You, it’s me, Anonymous...”

It was indeed the loveliest piece I had ever heard.

****

“You’re the best of the best, Ms. Skye!”

“Thank you, Ms. Skye. I had the best first day ever!”

“See you tomorrow, Ms. Skye.”

My cheeks couldn’t get any redder as I waved goodbye to a beaming Salome before her Moana school bag disappeared past the threshold, and I tapped myself on the back for a job well done. Nothing was more rewarding than watching them leave with their knapsacks and genuine smiles on their faces, knowing they enjoyed every bit of the exercises we had today.

I began stacking up the textbooks and clearing the desk when movement by the door startled me. “Jesus.” My hand flew to my chest when the tall man stepped in, offering an apologetic smile, and because I stood at eye level with his chest, I tipped my head back to look at him.

“Forgive me, Ms. Skye, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The tall man was lean, had fair skin, silver eyes, and short brown hair that was faded at the sides. He regarded me with a charming gaze and had thin lips that curved to the side in a bedazzling grin. I recognized him from school events.

“Jake’s dad, right?” With another smile—because I deserved an award for the number of times I had smiled today—I offered my hand. “It’s fine. I’m an easy scare.”

He laughed, taking my hand, and I noticed the one-sided dimple on his left cheek. On a regular day, I always tried not to let my eyes stray from a parent’s eyes. And a regular day was all the time. For as long as I had worked as a school teacher. For three years.

Today, however, I allowed my eyes to stray, and I noticed that…he was not at all bad looking.

I shouldn’t have noticed.

I really shouldn’t have.

Because now, I couldn’t help but admire the snug fit of his pale blue dress shirt against his chest, or the straight fit of his black pants, or how firm his hands were wrapped around mine. Sweaty but still firm.

“Yes, but please, you can just call me Warren.”

I shouldn’t have blushed, either, but I did. My cheeks warmed up rather quickly, and I blamed it on…something. He released my hand, and a small gust of cold air replaced the heat of his hand on mine. I clasped my hands together.

“Okay, Warren, is there anything I can help you with? Did Jake forget something?”

“Oh, no.” I thought I heard a nervous chuckle. “I didn’t…um, I didn’t come back to talk about Jake.”

“You didn’t?”

Then, why had he come back?

Almost immediately, I noticed his sweeping gaze. Sweeping over me. From the blonde bun of my hair to my striped yellow and black honey-bee signature sweater.

I was twenty-two years old, not a child. Surely, I understood what that meant. He was not-so-subtly checking me out, and I was unsure how to react, whether to feel flattered or repulsed.

“Jake doesn’t talk so much, but I’ve heard your name more than a hundred times in a few minutes since picking him up. He seems to like you, and that’s a good thing. I’ll take it as a sign that he’ll do well in this class.”

That made me smile. “I promised them to do my best, and I intend to keep that promise.”

“You have a very beautiful smile,” he blurted, now looking at my lips. “I noticed it when I came to pick up Jake last year, and I…I don’t know. I’d like to see it again. I would like to see you again.”

It didn’t matter what anyone else said; the young charmer delivered better lines.

However, “Oh,” was all I could say.

“Yeah. Would you like to go out to dinner with me sometime?”

I had a thing for food. I almost never turned down an offer to eat. But he was a parent, and I, a teacher. His son’s teacher, to be precise.

And even though, with that cheeky-slash-over-confident grin and laid-back aura, Warren looked like he would make a sweet partner, there were rules.

But….

My head started doing what it always did when I took anything into consideration. Maybe rules could be broken every once in a—

“ Babe?”

We turned at the same time, looking toward the door. Standing between the threshold and the classroom was a tall brunette that looked a lot like some popular supermodel I’d seen on the front page of a fashion magazine. Long, skinny legs, perfect facial bone structure, and slender curves. She had it all. She also had the biggest smile on her face when she walked up to the man in front of me.

“Baby, you’re here?” He spun around fast, completely ignoring me, like he hadn’t been asking me out to dinner only seconds ago. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah. Wanted to surprise our baby by picking him up on his first day in the sixth grade. Jake said you were having a word with his teacher.”

Babe and Baby shared a kiss and walked back to my table. And my heart did a tiny dip at the revelation. Babe and Baby had matching gold wedding bands. I wasn’t sure how I’d missed that the first time, but I did.

Awesome.

“You must be Ms. Skye.” She grinned, showing off her pearly teeth and stamping my conscience with her sincere happiness. “Jake’s already talking about you. It’s good to meet you.”

This time, my smile wobbled, and I didn’t bother with a handshake. Her husband’s imprints still lingered. “Pleased to hear that. Do have a good day, Mr. and Mrs. Warren. ”

She waved, and the field-playing, two-timing piece of trash led her out without even glancing over his shoulder.

I sighed. It baffled me how easy it was for men to two-time. How seamless it was for him to switch to the role of a loving, compassionate husband after asking another random woman out to dinner.

In the past, I hadn’t bothered myself with serious intimate relationships, and now, I understood that this fear held me back from trusting anyone completely. You could offer him your whole heart, and he’d trample it under his feet without remorse. In a world like ours, I knew it was hard to find true love, so what was the point of trying anyway? Plus, I wasn’t sure I could stomach being trampled on.

Shaking my head, I slung my purse over my shoulder, turned the lights off, and shut the door behind me.

In Salome’s irritated voice, the words rang in my head: “These creatures.”