The Scent of Chalk When It Becomes Perfume

Author: Mouza Al Yahyai

I do not merely record my memories as days and years passed, but I capture their hidden pulse between the lines through every letter, each a beat of those memories.
Words become mirrors in which I see myself with each student.. I write words to reconcile my heart with what has passed of my life.. to whisper to tomorrow that I am still learning.. to traverse time with utmost contentment and immense gratitude to a great Lord.
I am still like a traveler planting their steps in every land and in every new academic year, and the chalk dust transforms into fleeting moments that illuminate the sky of memories.
My memoirs are not papers folded away in that cold wooden drawer; they are my homeland to which I return, containing my laughter, my thoughts, my teaching strategies and games, and sometimes my tears due to the changing environment and the difficulty of understanding new generations..
The sweetness of grammar and the beauty of rhetorical imagery, the positive connotations from storytelling, the type of narrator, and the heroic roles played by the little teacher.