Taif walked down the school corridor, her heart racing with excitement. This was it—her dream was finally coming true. She had always wanted to be a teacher, and now, here she was, on her way to her very first class.
As she approached the first-grade classroom, a gentle smile formed on her lips. It was almost instinctive, as if she was trying to heal an unseen wound with that simple expression. But then, a sudden sound caught her attention. She turned towards it without even realizing why—her heart skipped a beat.
A small gasp escaped her lips as she laid eyes on the scene before her. A child, barely six years old, was walking beside the classroom door, his frail little hand tightly gripping a stick that tapped against the ground. His eyes were lowered, and he flinched slightly with every tap.
Without thinking, Taif moved towards him. She knelt down so they were at eye level, then gently took his tiny hand in hers and kissed it softly. His skin was cold, his fingers trembling. Just as she was about to speak, a sharp voice interrupted her.
"What kind of woman are you?"
Taif looked up in surprise. A woman stood before her, arms crossed, watching her with narrowed eyes. She was one of the other teachers, clearly unimpressed by Taif's display of kindness.
Taif was taken aback but quickly composed herself. "Excuse me?" she asked, standing up.
The teacher scoffed, taking a quick glance at her from head to toe. "Who gave you the right to barge into my class like this? Who are you?"
Taif felt her pulse quicken, but she refused to back down. "I'm the new teacher," she replied firmly.
The woman's lips curled into a smirk. "Ah, so you're the new one." She took a step closer, her gaze intimidating. "Listen carefully, newcomer. This is my class, my rules. You don’t get to interfere with my students. Understand?" She gestured dismissively towards the door. "Now, get out of my way."
Taif clenched her fists but remained silent. She turned back to the little boy, her heart aching for him. His tears had started to fall, silently rolling down his pale cheeks. She wanted to say something, to stand up for him—but what could she do?
As she walked away, her thoughts raced. How could they treat children like this?
Steeling herself, she reached her own classroom and took a deep breath. This is why I'm here, she reminded herself. To make a difference.
She entered the classroom, forcing a warm smile as she greeted her students. The room was buzzing with chatter and excitement, but as soon as they noticed her presence, a hush fell over them.
"Good morning," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "My name is Taif. I'm your new teacher."
A small murmur ran through the children. Some exchanged curious glances, while others simply stared at her, unsure of what to make of her.
"I'm here to teach you, to help you learn, and most importantly, to be here for you. I want you to think of me as someone you can trust," she continued. "In fact, if any of you ever need anything, you can even call me—Mama."
Silence filled the room for a moment. Then, a small voice rang out from the back.
"But you're not our mother," a little girl said, her big brown eyes staring straight at Taif. "None of us have a mother. Or a father. So don’t lie to us."
Taif's heart sank. She turned to the girl, who looked thin and frail, her honey-colored eyes filled with something much older than her years.
The girl quickly averted her gaze and pressed herself closer to the friend beside her, as if hoping to disappear.
Taif took a slow step toward her. "You’re right," she said softly. "I am not your mother. But I can still love you like one."
The girl flinched slightly. The whole class seemed to be holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
Before Taif could say more, another child whispered, "She’s going to hit her."
Taif froze. "What?"
The little boy who had spoken looked at her cautiously. "That’s what Miss Abeer used to do."
Taif felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Miss Abeer. The same teacher she had just encountered in the hallway.
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut—these children weren’t just students. They were orphans. And they had been living under the rule of someone who used fear instead of love.
She took a deep breath and crouched down, reaching out to the little girl. The child flinched but didn't move away. Taif gently placed her hands on either side of the girl’s face.
"You never have to be afraid of me," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I promise you—no matter what happens, I will never raise my hand against you."
The girl’s eyes widened in disbelief. For a moment, she just stared at Taif, searching her face for any sign of deception. And then, as if testing the waters, she gave a tiny, hesitant nod.
Taif smiled through the lump forming in her throat.
This is just the beginning.
