Of Teaching and Socks
Title: Of Teaching and Socks
Author: sira01
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Laura Roslin, with a hint (a tiny hint) of A/R
Rating: K+
Summary: Laura’s students surprise her.
The tent was empty. It shouldn't be, but it was. No one was there but her which would explain why she had heard no screaming and laughing as she usually did. It was still a few more minutes until the beginning of the first lesson of the day, still something wasn’t quite right. She had been a teacher for too long not to know when something was up. She pondered to leave the tent and look for her students herself, but decided against it. Who knew, she might run right into a planned trap. She smiled.
Sitting down at her desk, she got out yesterday’s corrected homework.
Gods, it was freezing again. It was too cold in the early mornings, seldom warm enough during the day, and when the sun was sinking low down on the horizon, the cold seeped into her very bones once more. A vicious cycle, one that made her wish to be back in space. Life up there had held so many restrictions, but at least, she’d been warm. Rubbing her hands, she tried to concentrate.
Most of the essays had been good or at least acceptable, but there were some students she knew would need more intensive tutoring. It wasn’t only that their general knowledge of humanity’s history, of math, of language wasn’t what it should be, some of them had problems when it came to basic grammar and spelling. She sighed. No wonder considering the circumstances. The older children hadn’t seen a school in close to two years, and the younger ones for which it was the first school experience had to fight their way through this kind of school system where everyone shared one class room.
Putting on her glasses, she shook her head over some especially gruesome spelling mistake when there was a cough in front of her desk.
Looking up, she found little Marla in front of her desk. The girl was one of her youngest students, barely five years old, and as it was, she could just look over her desk.
“Marla, what can I do for you?”
The young girl blushed and quickly pulled her hands from behind her back, handing her a few flowers. Daisies.
“For you.” Giving her a smile, showing the fact she’d recently lost a tooth, the girl blushed again, turned and ran, her pigtails bouncing on her back.
Looking from her to the flowers, Laura was confused. It was such a nice, sweet gesture; still, she didn’t understand. If Marla was here, had been here, where were the others?
She didn’t have time to contemplate this for long. Another child came in. This time, it was Tony Sutton, and in contrast to Marla, he was a self-confident boy on the verge to teenage hood.
“Hello, Miss Roslin.”
“Hello, Tony.”
He was holding something in his hands, too, and when he showed it to her, she saw it was a comic book. As he held it out to her, she took it from him.
“I hope you enjoy it.”
“This is for me?”
“Yeah.” Suddenly, he became all boy again, shuffling his feet. “I heard you liked books. It’s the only one I own, so… Anyway, gotta go.”
“Thank you. But wait a moment.”
He didn’t, was gone within a few seconds.
Laura took off her glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose, looked at the book. She wasn’t a fan of comic books, yet the gesture touched her. Who would’ve thought that new books could become virtually next to impossible to obtain just two years ago? She’d loved reading on Caprica, had loved to curl up on her favourite armchair with a book. Good times. She’d owned a lot of books.
She bit her lip when she felt tears pricking at her eyes at the sight of Tony’s gift.
Where were the children and what…?
The tent flap opened once more, this time revealing Alexandro Riverio, a shy Gemenese boy. She still remembered his parents who hadn’t wanted him to attend a mixed school class, fearing his religious values could end up tainted. Laura had visited them thrice until they’d agreed to allow their son to attend school. It would’ve been a loss if they hadn’t as Alexandro was one of her most gifted students.
“Good morning, Miss Roslin.”
“Good morning, Alexandro.” Serious, this young boy was always so very serious. It had taken over two months until she’d seen him laughing aloud for the first time. He had a beautiful laugh, one coming from the heart. It was sad to see that one’s culture could confine so much of one’s personality, but there wasn’t much she could do, except of being the best teacher she could be and extend the hand of friendship if needed.
“Alexandro, could you…”
She didn’t get to finish her question as Alexandro held out a piece of paper to her. It was a drawing of a rose, beautifully done.
“For you. Thank you for being such a wonderful and inspiring teacher.”
Before she could react, he held out his hand to her, and she shook it, feeling slightly bedazzled.
Like the others before him, Alexandro left her being none the wiser.
They didn’t give her the chance to contemplate what was happening as one child after the other made its way into the tent, everyone bearing a small gift. Some of them didn’t say a word, some of them hugged her, one of them refused to let go for a few minutes, sobbing against her sweater.
Laura was touched beyond words, had to will herself not to let her feelings show. She had always loved teaching, but today, she was vividly reminded why she did. Children were still innocent, you could still appeal to the good in them, try to inspire them to become the best they could, to use their chances, meagre as they might be at these times. The smiling faces told her she was doing something right, that her efforts weren’t in vain.
Gods, she had missed the feeling of being useful. She knew how important her job as secretary of education had been, how even more important her job as president had been. Teaching, though, was something she did because she wanted to do it, because she really believed in it. She didn’t need a mask to be a teacher; it was something that came natural to her. To work with children… it fulfilled her. Children were honest, expected you to be the same. People who had seen her in action as a politician described her as serene, as intelligent, some as cunning. That was her mask, the one she needed to survive in the world of politics. The children, though, didn’t care for masks, wanted someone who led them with a sure but gentle hand.
After a while, her hand began to tremble, and she knew that if this didn’t stop soon, her feelings would get the better of her. This wouldn’t do. Laura Roslin sniffling? No way.
Another student came in, this time her youngest student, Lissa Ellway. She was one of the shiest and loveliest kids there were. She never complained about any given task, always tried to give her best.
“Miss Roslin?” the little girl said while handing her a pair of socks.
“Yes, Lissa?”
“My mommy made them. I told her you have very cold feet and that you need a pair of warm socks. I was right, wasn’t I?” Lissa bit her lips, and Laura could see the girl’s nervousness.
“Yes, you were.”
She smiled at the young girl, took the socks. They felt soft, warm, and they would do her good during the many cold nights down here. She didn’t like socks, didn’t like anything on her feet really, but down here, many things were different. One question was nagging her, though.
“Lissa, how did you know my feet tend to be cold?”
The girl smiled at her, the same way she did when she knew the right answer in class.
“You told the Admiral.”
“I did?”
She was stumped, didn’t try to let it show. What was Lissa referring to?
“Yes, you did. When Admiral Adama came to visit you the last time, you told him that your feet are always freezing at nights, that you have nothing and no one to keep them warm.”
Laura remembered that day, and she hid the smile wanting to break free. Bill had only smiled knowingly at her, had told her he’d see what he could do it wouldn’t happened that night. She even remembered Lissa now. The girl had handed over her homework book before running out to play with the other kids. Bill had stayed that night, and true to his promise, it had been one of the few nights her feet hadn’t felt cold, one of the few nights she hadn’t felt cold at all. It was still about two weeks until Bill was supposed to be back, so the socks were more than welcome.
“Thank you for the socks, Lissa,” she said. “They are wonderful.”
Beaming, the girl ran off, leaving Laura wondering about this day and the nature of change. So much had changed since she had taken up teaching again. She would and could never be the same woman she had been on Caprica again, this Laura Rosin had died with the cylon attacks, but she wasn’t the same woman she’d been during her time as president either.
In spite of all the negative circumstances on this planet, in spite of her feeling that the cylons would find them sooner rather than later, she felt at peace. At peace with herself, with what she was doing. She was a good teacher, loved her job, and as it seemed, the children loved her back even despite the protests which came plenty when it was time for homework or tests. If she could only see Bill a bit more often… She twirled a pen between her fingers. Maybe there was a cabin in store for her… for him… one day… Who knew?
She didn’t get around to contemplate her imaginary future much longer as there was a couple of other children bearing gifts. When Sam, a boy of eight, ran out, she was relieved when it was Maya instead of another child coming in. Laura was sure that she had seen almost all of her students by now, but after a while, she’d simply lost track of them.
Maya, too, was smiling, and she carried what looked like a big cake. A cake with… chocolate? How on Caprica would she have gotten her hands on anything resembling chocolate?
She got up, wasn’t even surprised when Maya put the cake - it even smelled like chocolate - on her desk, and embraced her.
“Maya, what’s going on here?”
The young woman smiled, and as nearly always, Laura couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about the young woman having her on ease. Maya was part of her life down here as well, and she considered her a good, loyal friend.
“Look at the cake,” Maya said, amusement tinting her voice.
Doing as she was told, Laura looked at the cake, then back at Maya.
“Happy Teacher Appreciation Day?”
“Yes, we used to celebrate this day at my school when I was still a kid. Was the same day. And we all deserve a holiday… and some cake, don’t you think?”
Turning, she called for the children, and within moments, they were all inside once more, a cacophony of voices filling the tent. They all wanted to talk at once, they wanted cake, they compared their gifts. Thankfully, Maya took care of slicing the cake into pieces handing them out while Laura spoke with the children, refereed one argument and endured being hugged again and again.
It was much later that she got around eating some cake herself. Noticing that Maya was checking her watch frequently, she walked over to her.
“What is it?”
“I’m waiting for the gift I organised for you.”
“Which gift?”
“It should be here by now.”
“Which gift?”
“Ah, there it is.”
She nodded toward the tent flap that had just opened, revealing Bill Adama.
“Happy Teacher Appreciation Day.”
Maya hugged her from behind, but Laura only had eyes for Bill, a smile breaking free on her face. Somehow she was sure she wouldn’t be cold this night.
FIN
Author: sira01
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Laura Roslin, with a hint (a tiny hint) of A/R
Rating: K+
Summary: Laura’s students surprise her.
The tent was empty. It shouldn't be, but it was. No one was there but her which would explain why she had heard no screaming and laughing as she usually did. It was still a few more minutes until the beginning of the first lesson of the day, still something wasn’t quite right. She had been a teacher for too long not to know when something was up. She pondered to leave the tent and look for her students herself, but decided against it. Who knew, she might run right into a planned trap. She smiled.
Sitting down at her desk, she got out yesterday’s corrected homework.
Gods, it was freezing again. It was too cold in the early mornings, seldom warm enough during the day, and when the sun was sinking low down on the horizon, the cold seeped into her very bones once more. A vicious cycle, one that made her wish to be back in space. Life up there had held so many restrictions, but at least, she’d been warm. Rubbing her hands, she tried to concentrate.
Most of the essays had been good or at least acceptable, but there were some students she knew would need more intensive tutoring. It wasn’t only that their general knowledge of humanity’s history, of math, of language wasn’t what it should be, some of them had problems when it came to basic grammar and spelling. She sighed. No wonder considering the circumstances. The older children hadn’t seen a school in close to two years, and the younger ones for which it was the first school experience had to fight their way through this kind of school system where everyone shared one class room.
Putting on her glasses, she shook her head over some especially gruesome spelling mistake when there was a cough in front of her desk.
Looking up, she found little Marla in front of her desk. The girl was one of her youngest students, barely five years old, and as it was, she could just look over her desk.
“Marla, what can I do for you?”
The young girl blushed and quickly pulled her hands from behind her back, handing her a few flowers. Daisies.
“For you.” Giving her a smile, showing the fact she’d recently lost a tooth, the girl blushed again, turned and ran, her pigtails bouncing on her back.
Looking from her to the flowers, Laura was confused. It was such a nice, sweet gesture; still, she didn’t understand. If Marla was here, had been here, where were the others?
She didn’t have time to contemplate this for long. Another child came in. This time, it was Tony Sutton, and in contrast to Marla, he was a self-confident boy on the verge to teenage hood.
“Hello, Miss Roslin.”
“Hello, Tony.”
He was holding something in his hands, too, and when he showed it to her, she saw it was a comic book. As he held it out to her, she took it from him.
“I hope you enjoy it.”
“This is for me?”
“Yeah.” Suddenly, he became all boy again, shuffling his feet. “I heard you liked books. It’s the only one I own, so… Anyway, gotta go.”
“Thank you. But wait a moment.”
He didn’t, was gone within a few seconds.
Laura took off her glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose, looked at the book. She wasn’t a fan of comic books, yet the gesture touched her. Who would’ve thought that new books could become virtually next to impossible to obtain just two years ago? She’d loved reading on Caprica, had loved to curl up on her favourite armchair with a book. Good times. She’d owned a lot of books.
She bit her lip when she felt tears pricking at her eyes at the sight of Tony’s gift.
Where were the children and what…?
The tent flap opened once more, this time revealing Alexandro Riverio, a shy Gemenese boy. She still remembered his parents who hadn’t wanted him to attend a mixed school class, fearing his religious values could end up tainted. Laura had visited them thrice until they’d agreed to allow their son to attend school. It would’ve been a loss if they hadn’t as Alexandro was one of her most gifted students.
“Good morning, Miss Roslin.”
“Good morning, Alexandro.” Serious, this young boy was always so very serious. It had taken over two months until she’d seen him laughing aloud for the first time. He had a beautiful laugh, one coming from the heart. It was sad to see that one’s culture could confine so much of one’s personality, but there wasn’t much she could do, except of being the best teacher she could be and extend the hand of friendship if needed.
“Alexandro, could you…”
She didn’t get to finish her question as Alexandro held out a piece of paper to her. It was a drawing of a rose, beautifully done.
“For you. Thank you for being such a wonderful and inspiring teacher.”
Before she could react, he held out his hand to her, and she shook it, feeling slightly bedazzled.
Like the others before him, Alexandro left her being none the wiser.
They didn’t give her the chance to contemplate what was happening as one child after the other made its way into the tent, everyone bearing a small gift. Some of them didn’t say a word, some of them hugged her, one of them refused to let go for a few minutes, sobbing against her sweater.
Laura was touched beyond words, had to will herself not to let her feelings show. She had always loved teaching, but today, she was vividly reminded why she did. Children were still innocent, you could still appeal to the good in them, try to inspire them to become the best they could, to use their chances, meagre as they might be at these times. The smiling faces told her she was doing something right, that her efforts weren’t in vain.
Gods, she had missed the feeling of being useful. She knew how important her job as secretary of education had been, how even more important her job as president had been. Teaching, though, was something she did because she wanted to do it, because she really believed in it. She didn’t need a mask to be a teacher; it was something that came natural to her. To work with children… it fulfilled her. Children were honest, expected you to be the same. People who had seen her in action as a politician described her as serene, as intelligent, some as cunning. That was her mask, the one she needed to survive in the world of politics. The children, though, didn’t care for masks, wanted someone who led them with a sure but gentle hand.
After a while, her hand began to tremble, and she knew that if this didn’t stop soon, her feelings would get the better of her. This wouldn’t do. Laura Roslin sniffling? No way.
Another student came in, this time her youngest student, Lissa Ellway. She was one of the shiest and loveliest kids there were. She never complained about any given task, always tried to give her best.
“Miss Roslin?” the little girl said while handing her a pair of socks.
“Yes, Lissa?”
“My mommy made them. I told her you have very cold feet and that you need a pair of warm socks. I was right, wasn’t I?” Lissa bit her lips, and Laura could see the girl’s nervousness.
“Yes, you were.”
She smiled at the young girl, took the socks. They felt soft, warm, and they would do her good during the many cold nights down here. She didn’t like socks, didn’t like anything on her feet really, but down here, many things were different. One question was nagging her, though.
“Lissa, how did you know my feet tend to be cold?”
The girl smiled at her, the same way she did when she knew the right answer in class.
“You told the Admiral.”
“I did?”
She was stumped, didn’t try to let it show. What was Lissa referring to?
“Yes, you did. When Admiral Adama came to visit you the last time, you told him that your feet are always freezing at nights, that you have nothing and no one to keep them warm.”
Laura remembered that day, and she hid the smile wanting to break free. Bill had only smiled knowingly at her, had told her he’d see what he could do it wouldn’t happened that night. She even remembered Lissa now. The girl had handed over her homework book before running out to play with the other kids. Bill had stayed that night, and true to his promise, it had been one of the few nights her feet hadn’t felt cold, one of the few nights she hadn’t felt cold at all. It was still about two weeks until Bill was supposed to be back, so the socks were more than welcome.
“Thank you for the socks, Lissa,” she said. “They are wonderful.”
Beaming, the girl ran off, leaving Laura wondering about this day and the nature of change. So much had changed since she had taken up teaching again. She would and could never be the same woman she had been on Caprica again, this Laura Rosin had died with the cylon attacks, but she wasn’t the same woman she’d been during her time as president either.
In spite of all the negative circumstances on this planet, in spite of her feeling that the cylons would find them sooner rather than later, she felt at peace. At peace with herself, with what she was doing. She was a good teacher, loved her job, and as it seemed, the children loved her back even despite the protests which came plenty when it was time for homework or tests. If she could only see Bill a bit more often… She twirled a pen between her fingers. Maybe there was a cabin in store for her… for him… one day… Who knew?
She didn’t get around to contemplate her imaginary future much longer as there was a couple of other children bearing gifts. When Sam, a boy of eight, ran out, she was relieved when it was Maya instead of another child coming in. Laura was sure that she had seen almost all of her students by now, but after a while, she’d simply lost track of them.
Maya, too, was smiling, and she carried what looked like a big cake. A cake with… chocolate? How on Caprica would she have gotten her hands on anything resembling chocolate?
She got up, wasn’t even surprised when Maya put the cake - it even smelled like chocolate - on her desk, and embraced her.
“Maya, what’s going on here?”
The young woman smiled, and as nearly always, Laura couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about the young woman having her on ease. Maya was part of her life down here as well, and she considered her a good, loyal friend.
“Look at the cake,” Maya said, amusement tinting her voice.
Doing as she was told, Laura looked at the cake, then back at Maya.
“Happy Teacher Appreciation Day?”
“Yes, we used to celebrate this day at my school when I was still a kid. Was the same day. And we all deserve a holiday… and some cake, don’t you think?”
Turning, she called for the children, and within moments, they were all inside once more, a cacophony of voices filling the tent. They all wanted to talk at once, they wanted cake, they compared their gifts. Thankfully, Maya took care of slicing the cake into pieces handing them out while Laura spoke with the children, refereed one argument and endured being hugged again and again.
It was much later that she got around eating some cake herself. Noticing that Maya was checking her watch frequently, she walked over to her.
“What is it?”
“I’m waiting for the gift I organised for you.”
“Which gift?”
“It should be here by now.”
“Which gift?”
“Ah, there it is.”
She nodded toward the tent flap that had just opened, revealing Bill Adama.
“Happy Teacher Appreciation Day.”
Maya hugged her from behind, but Laura only had eyes for Bill, a smile breaking free on her face. Somehow she was sure she wouldn’t be cold this night.
FIN