I spent my five months of my existence inside a school, not as a student, but as a teacher...and still, I haven’t figured out yet the real purpose why my feet were sent in that school. Was it because I am a teacher and I am really bound to teach kids? Was it because I needed a work and I just grabbed the one that came along? Or was it because there was a deeper purpose and reason for this?

Probably, everything is correct. I needed a job. I am bound to be a teacher. But kids? Naah. I’m a BSE grad. I am supposed to teach high school students and not elementary which I am currently handling right now. But I don’t know. I can’t even understand. I told myself I can not handle elementary level. But look at me now.

Is the purpose behind this one hidden in the faces and situations of each of my students? I’ve been teaching for two months only and I felt there was so much to do. So much to understand. So much connection to make. Maybe my students right now are meant to really touch my life, and not me to touch theirs. Maybe I have been to far from reality that God put me in this situation for me to feel and experience a lot of things. Probably, I have just become so numb that I needed something to make me back to my senses. Maybe. Maybe my heart has been hardened. Maybe I am really naïve.

Why would He let me handle a student so special that even I can’t help but wonder and appreciate how important and valuable family members are, time, care, and friendship.

Why do I most of my students have problems that they should not bear at a young age? Why does a Grade 4 student who handles all the responsibilities at home is not given the attention and appreciation that he needs from his parents? Why is he not given the opportunity to enjoy his youth? Why is there no chance for him to go out and play? Why does his younger brother get all the attention of his parents? Is it because he’s not as bright as his younger brother? And why still, even if all attention is given to his brother, no competition is present. He still continues to say that everything in his life is his brother. Everything that makes his brother happy is what makes him happy, too. Talk about unconditional love, I give my salute to him.

Being in this school makes me think if I am really in a regular school or special one. A first year high school student is now joined in my Grade 5 class. A Grade 4 student who can’t even read sentences. A Grade 1 student who feels lost. A Grade 4 student who has a heart disease. A Grade 3 student with diabetes. Another third grader who feels the pressure from her parents to excel in class, even losing her rights to play and be her age. I can give a lot of other cases for each of my students, but nobody, I think, could ever be greater than one of my students. A case of cerebral palsy wherein his motor nerves were damaged. But no. He’s not helpless, and he refuses to be one. At first glance, you would really feel pity. But as time passed by, pity changed to admiration. At his age, when most teenagers would go out, he can not. He can’t walk without his braces and leg support. He actually has incontinence. Just imagine his feelings as he wears his diapers from morning to afternoon. Or even be left behind the ground floor if the activity is on the second floor because nobody could carry him. Try to feel his pain as he tries to write down his notes and recall each. His case is really different. We can’t pressure him to take up so much lessons. When he says he can not, we have to stop. If he wants to rest, or he feels sleepy, we should let him. But his determination is what sets him apart from the rest. He tries everything. He gives all that he can. He enjoys his time. he has a lot of stories to tell, that even I can’t help but be amused. But most of all, he knows that he was given only 6 years to live but he’s currently sixteen.

I first thought that being in school helps you to reminisce your life as a student. But at this point, I guess, school really is a place where one learns, where one grows. It has nothing to do with the facilities, library, books, tables and chairs, and yes… sometimes, even teachers. it is a place where one chooses to learn, regardless of who the teachers and students are. It’s a choice…. much more a commitment.

At this point, I’m out of the school. I do not teach the students there anymore. Yes, I do miss them and my everyday routine. But when one reaches a point wherein you realize you have learned your lessons, you have to go and look for another school.

But I know, always, always, I will look back at the memories with a smile, and with hope….