This morning when I entered my class at III-Compassionate, the room was in total chaos. While asking them to settle down, one of my students handed me a crumpled brown paper with writings on it. I simply pocketed it for I was too busy instructing them to pile up their things that are scattered on the floor and to clean their respective areas. While doing what I asked them to do, some of them whispered audibly to read the content of that piece of paper. I waited till we finished saying the Opening Prayer and everybody was seated. I drew out the crumpled paper from my pocket and I went over it; then, I looked at the owner of the paper (for permission), and started reading it aloud. Here is what he had written: (Note: I only edited the grammar, everything here is the same as what and how he had written it.)
After reading this, I told him that it’s alright to express himself so that we would know that he needed love; that he wanted to be loved, for it seems he is full of hate; perhaps he is troubled, wounded. And he completely needs understanding, healing...Everyone was attentive when I read this before them, and so I hope that they, too, will learn to understand how this young boy feels, and why perhaps sometimes he chose to remain quiet and sulk in the corner. I wonder how many of them are in my class, in our school? i wonder how many of them can survive to handle this feeling... i wonder if their parents know how and what they feel. I am sad knowing that kids like him, as young as they are, are very troubled. I hope before the school year ends, i have helped him.. i hope i had made even just a little difference in his life.
