"I'm sure 1 + 1 is 2," Sophia declared, pointing a crayon at Amber like it was a sword.
"No! 1 + 1 is apples!" Amber argued for the third time, her tiny fists clenched as tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, she burst into sobs and bolted toward Miss Reed.
The sound yanked Peace out of her suffocating thoughts, and she gasped softly, startled back to the present.
"Miss Reed!" Amber wailed, clinging to Peace's skirt. "Sophia says 1 + 1 is 2, but I told her it's apples! And... and she..." Her voice cracked as she hiccupped through her tears. "She's so annoying!"
Peace knelt down, lifting Amber into her arms with a soothing smile. "Oh, Amber, I hate to disappoint you, but numbers can't give you apples."
Amber's tear-filled eyes widened. "So... I'm wrong?"
Peace gently ruffled her hair, then turned to Sophia and scooped her up as well. The two girls sat in her arms, glaring daggers at each other.
"Being wrong isn't a bad thing," Peace said kindly. "As long as you're willing to learn and take correction. Now, I want you two to be good friends, okay? You can learn so much from each other."
Sophia and Amber exchanged reluctant looks before finally nodding.
Just then, Michael ran over and latched onto Peace's leg, looking up at her with wide, hopeful eyes. "Miss Reed, can you play us a song?"
Peace chuckled, shifting the girls in her arms so she could scoop Michael up too. "Of course, my darling!"
Sitting down in the middle of the colorful classroom, she grabbed her guitar and rested Michael in her lap. Her fingers strummed the strings, filling the room with a sweet, cheerful melody.
The children giggled and sang along, their voices high and bright, their tiny faces lighting up with joy. Peace's heart swelled as she watched them, her smile unwavering.
This—this was what she loved.
The classroom was a kaleidoscope of orange, yellow, and green. The ceiling was adorned with a wallpaper of a blue sky, and vibrant murals covered the walls, filled with positive messages and cheerful illustrations.
Everything felt alive, bursting with warmth and color as the children's voices filled the space.
When the bell rang, a chorus of cheers erupted.
"Yay!" the children shouted, scattering like a burst of confetti.
Peace laughed, hugging each child goodbye as they grabbed their backpacks.
"Don't forget to do your homework, Mary," she reminded one girl with bouncing pigtails.
"Okay, teacher!" Mary called as she ran toward her mom.
"Make sure you read your notes with your parents, Jason," she said, her tone light and encouraging.
Jason grinned, giving her a thumbs-up. "Yes, teacher!"
"Sleep early, Todd," she said, slipping a forgotten coloring sheet into his bag.
"Thanks, teacher!" Todd replied, sprinting off.
Finally, the classroom was empty. Peace sighed as she began tidying up—crayons, pencils, erasers, markers, building blocks, puzzles, toys. By the time she finished, a sheen of sweat coated her forehead.
"Whew," she exhaled, straightening up.
"Whew," someone echoed with a teasing whistle.
She turned to see Riley standing in the doorway, dressed smartly in her work clothes and smiling mischievously. "Ready to go out?"
Peace grabbed her coat and slung it over her arm, returning Riley's grin. "Of course."