Sunday, July 29th, 2018, me and my husband had just came home from our service at Kakap. I felt so tired because of my long trip and activity while being there. I took a bath and I wanted to lie down on the bed as soon as possible. When my body touched the soft bed, it felt great. My rigid bones felt limber. Moreover, I was accompanied by the sound of rain and air conditioner's blow, my body felt relaxed. I felt so peaceful. I didn't need a long time to fall asleep.
I felt asleep for about one hour in this Sunday afternoon. When I woke up, I still lied down with closed eyes and I tried to remember what I had just experienced when I slept. This experience is called dream. Yeah, right! Dream. You must have dreamed too. In my case, I dream almost every night, and starting today, I am going to write down all my dreams. I will connect some of these dreams to real events in my life, or I can draw some lessons from them.
When I was asleep just now, I dreamed that I was walking with my husband on a street that we didn't know. In front of us, some senior high students passed. Their bodies were much larger than mine. I felt like a child among them. I observed these students. Unexpectedly, one of them stared at me, and I replied by staring at his face too. I was not afraid of him! I wasn't worried because it didn't seem like he wanted to pick a fight. What, then? Was he mesmerized by my cute face? Ooh, that was embarassing. Enough, enough. I felt like wanting to know, who's this student? When we stared at each other, I thought I have seen his face before. But when? And where? Who's him exactly?
When I was still racking my brain to remember, an adult male voice came out from him. He said, "Are you miss Santi?" Spontaneously I replied "You are Evan, aren't you?" Even though I was still a bit doubtful when I said that name. When he shook his head, I remembered. "Oh, are you Richo?" When I looked at his uniform's name label, it was right, he is Richo, my student when I taught courses years ago.
In the past, when I was still in college, I taught courses in a teacher's place, and Rico was one of the students who was still in the first year of junior high school at the time. When I talked with him, I asked him "How are the other students doing?" For example, Hansen and Arif. Hansen and Arif were my students who were still in elementary school back then. Hahaha. How could Richo know them? But he probably knew, because they are still in one studying place.
When Richo and his friends said goodbye and continued their walk, I told my husband proudly that the student who talked with me just now was my student. Even though he had become bigger, he still remembered me. I was so joyful because I was remembered by students I had taught. I continued my journey with a big smile on my face. Not just my face. If my heart can smile, my heart would probably smile too just like my face. Where's my husband, by the way? He was next to me just now. Weird, where did he go? Ahh, that's how dreams are, full of mysteries.
The greatest joy of a teacher is when she sees her students grow bigger and become good kids. Other than that, a teacher will be even more joyful if her students still remember her. But in reality, a lot of my students didn't remember me as their teacher. This is the sadness of a preschool teacher. In the past, when I taught children aged 2 to 5 years old, when they grew bigger, most of them had forgotten me, especially children in younger age group. But their parents remembered me and asked their children to shake my hand. This heart was consoled a bit, at least. Not all students forgot me as their teacher, however. There are some students who remembered me. That's the joy of a teacher, being remembered by her students. Do you remember your teacher?
Author: Su Santi
A teacher and a housewife who dreams a lot. Loves reading and writing.