Nurture the seeds

Nha gently put the bag in the cupboard, smiled gently, her eyes glanced around the class and stopped at Xuan. The boy looked different now. After the class sat up, Nha approached Xuan, shocked to discover several bruises on his arm. The boy's face was pale. Nha quickly asked: "What's wrong with you? Let me take a look?"

Illustration: China.

When she was about to roll Xuan's sleeve up higher to get a closer look, the boy jerked it away, as if he didn't care, his face turned up to look out the window. Nha was more patient: "Once, because I wasn't walking carefully, I also bumped into the door, my leg was bruised and hurt for days. Like this, it hurts a lot, doesn't it?"

“I'm not hurt, and I didn't… hit the door,” the boy protested.

“What happened?”

“I…I…”

Seeing Xuan stuttering, Nha put her arm around his shoulder, gently patted his head, intentionally to make the teacher and student closer.

“What star? What if I don't stumble?”

"Dad... dad... hit me, miss."

Nha's heart ached, pitying her student. Calming herself, Nha hugged him gently, whispering loud enough for the boy to hear:

"Remember to tell me when it hurts!"

***

The school yard was full of people and vehicles. People and vehicles were rumbling and chaotic. Nha was rooted to the spot in front of the classroom door, unable to move because of the hateful looks, the endless resentment and the harsh words that were pouring out. The person opposite waved his hand, reacting harshly to what Nha had just said. He said that the teaching in class was not finished, why did Nha interfere in his family. The class had 46 students, Nha spent the most time with Xuan, always patiently coaxing, soothing, and correcting him little by little. It was because Nha discovered the abnormality in Xuan's words and actions that Nha cared for Xuan more than the other children. He loved and cared for his student with all his heart. Yet the person who was so angry at Nha at this moment was the boy's father. A series of machine guns were fired at Nha.

The voice was sharp and reproachful, pouring into Nha's ears. Nha's head was shaking, shaking, shaking to the brain. It felt like he was just a little bit closer to "kicking and punching" Nha. After a tiring day of dealing with the children, now giving some advice to the parents and having to receive this series of bullets was really frustrating. His chest was like a balloon. He threatened to sue the teacher to the school's Board of Directors. So Nha would call to report first, because Nha himself was very tired of Xuan's case. So many parents rushed to comment on the boy's unusual behavior, one day he pulled his hair, hit his friend, the next day he threatened, took his friend's books...

Nha picked up the phone, quickly scrolled through the contact list to find the principal's number. All the grievances and anger, along with Nha's crying, her story, her rational presentation, poured out like a flood, pouring into the principal's ears. The other end of the line was silent, patiently swallowing the sound. After the silence, there was comfort, after the comfort, the principal asked to see Nha alone in her room.

Facing the principal, Nha restrained her emotions but still spoke with great emotion, recounting many complaints from other parents about Xuan, a "hyperactive" and uncontrolled boy in Nha's class. Meanwhile, his parents did not realize that their child had a problem. In her role as the homeroom teacher, Nha had discussed frankly and gave advice on the issue of educating her child at home, but instead of cooperating with the teacher, Xuan's father threatened and had a "very bad attitude" towards the teacher.

The principal slowly and leisurely poured tea. She listened attentively, nodding. When Nha stopped, she looked at Nha with her bright, kind eyes and said:

- As a parent, no one can easily accept that their child is abnormal. There are people who dare to face reality, but there are also people like Xuan's parents who cannot accept that their child is being told that he is abnormal. They are the ones who are struggling and need help. I sympathize with the pressure of a first grade teacher like you. Children who bring their school bags to school for the first time, have to learn letters and get used to a new lifestyle. Each child is a world , a situation, and many difficult situations happen during the day. It's a lot of pressure. But I was startled and stunned when you could cry immediately in response to the negative reaction of your parents. Your reaction is a manifestation of a teacher with poor professional skills.

Eyes wide open, mouth wide open. Nha was extremely surprised by the principal's reprimand.

A working day ended in exhaustion and resentment. Nha was silent, counting each knuckle in thought.

***

The evening news accidentally rang in Nha’s ears, the reporter’s words criticizing the school’s collection of fees. Nha was absent-minded. It was truly “a rotten apple spoiling the barrel”, a teacher who scolded a student improperly, when being ridiculed, hundreds of eyes saw, thousands of ears heard. Their students also listened, imprinting in their young minds that why should they be afraid of their teachers, if the teachers were a little too harsh, they would post it online, record a video …

Teachers are scared. Really scared. Reading the series of harsh comments on Facebook about a teacher being caught making mistakes, Nha was stunned. No one knows the truth of the story, the beginning and the end, but the teacher's face on the screen is clear. Being like that, teachers who used to be confident no longer dare to show their faces to teach. Is it because of that easy-to-chop atmosphere that the insolent attitude towards their teachers is more common every day among children?

At school, Nha is a teacher, at home, Nha is the mother of two children. One is in 5th grade, the other has just entered 1st grade. The other day, while listening to her child study online at the English center, Nha shuddered at the words of a child threatening the assistant teacher when the teacher reminded him to talk in the classroom on Zoom. "If you say anything more, I will tell my mother not to pay anymore, if she doesn't pay, I will only go hungry this month." Not seeing the boy, Nha imagined a proud rich boy's face. Nha looked at the flat screen. The young assistant teacher was holding a forced smile on his lips. He avoided the student's statement just now, turning to remind the whole class to pay attention to the lesson. Seeing him trying to act calm was heartbreaking.

Nha always reassured herself after each working day, to be clear-headed, not to bring worries from school home. However, the principal's scolding still lingered in her mind. The rice kept moving in her mouth, choking her. Suddenly remembering, she had to send information to the parents' group immediately. Nha grabbed her phone, her hands fumbled to compose a message and then delete it, wanting to send the reminder to the class's group but she kept weighing and measuring each sentence and word. If there was just a small mistake, the parents would react loudly. Nha's husband frowned slightly: "Why are there so many things, honey? Can't you solve everything in class? Why bring it all home?" "If parents ask, you have to answer." "Every night, a few people wonder, sending messages back and forth, what else can you do? Or... have you ever thought about a new job, more leisurely, less stressful?"

Nha's eyes opened wide, staring at her husband. Realizing that she had misspoken, Nha's husband quickly corrected her: "I was just joking, but taking care of the seeds is the job you love, how could you give it up?" Nha's personality is like that, careful in her work, when something happens she thinks too much, so her mind gets heavy. No matter how stressful it is, Nha has never wanted to give up her job, and her husband understands that.

***

After a long wait, Nha finally met Xuan's mother. She probably only picked up her child about twice a month because of her busy work schedule. The woman shyly sat down on the opposite chair and spoke:

“Sorry teacher, it's all because my husband has a hot temper.”

“Yes, I understand. I also apologize to the family for giving such blunt assessments of Xuan. I just want to support her as best as possible with her parents. As for her husband beating her, that is not acceptable, sister…”

Her face gradually turned red, Xuan's mother explained:

“My family doesn’t want to make such a big deal out of it, please understand, teacher. My husband and I were born late, it took a long time to have a son, even though we know he is naughty… a bit too much, but because we love our son, we don’t like to hear bad things about him. My husband has a hot temper. You see, he doesn’t accept hearing you say that our son is naughty, but at home, if he goes too far, he will be pressured, and if he can’t stand it, he will beat him. And the more you beat him, it seems like he is even more unruly. Teacher, you know, yesterday he suddenly threw himself into my arms, it had been a long time since he did that, he said, “Mom, can you hug me like you hug me, I’m in pain… That really touched me. I am grateful to you, teacher…”

Just like that, the woman sat there, whispering about her family and children, until she looked around and suddenly discovered that the schoolyard was deserted with only a few people left, so she said goodbye to Nha and left.

Suddenly remembering the principal's words, she was right about Xuan's parents' mentality. Sometimes, being good is not enough, but one must be skillful and skillful. The knot in Nha's heart was untied. Just those heartfelt words with a very sincere attitude from Xuan's mother made Nha forget her fatigue, even forget Xuan's father's scolding. Through the incident, Nha also learned from her own experience, becoming more mature in her job of "taking care of the seeds", a job that is not easy to do well. Slowly walking step by step through the long, familiar hallway, Nha felt her heart today extremely light, as light as the flower petals fluttering on the porch.

 

Short story by Tran Ngoc My

Source: https://baobacgiang.vn/cham-nhung-hat-mam-postid418112.bbg