Chapter 5

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After a long and exhausting day of classes, I was more than ready to retreat to my dorm room and sink into the comforting embrace of my bed.

The thought of a quick nap danced in my mind like a tempting mirage, but as I trudged up the steps, fatigue weighing heavily on my limbs, a sudden realization struck me: I was supposed to meet Mrs. Smith in her office.

I let out a heavy sigh, rolling my eyes in frustration.

Just what I needed—a meeting after a day that felt like an endless cycle of lectures, notes, and half-hearted attempts at paying attention.

My body yearned for rest, but I knew I had to turn around and head back to Mrs. Smith's office, the very last place I wanted to be at that moment.

As I walked, my mind raced with possibilities of why she wanted to see me.

Had I forgotten an assignment? Did I mess something up in class? My tired brain struggled to recall any missteps, but nothing came to mind.

I felt a dull throb of anxiety creeping in, amplifying my exhaustion.

Finally, I reached Mrs. Smith's door, pausing for a moment to gather my thoughts and shake off the fatigue.

I took a deep breath, trying to center myself before knocking. With a firm rap on the door, I braced for whatever awaited me inside.

“Come in,” Mrs. Smith's voice called out, warm yet authoritative.

I opened the door and stepped inside, preparing myself for the conversation that lay ahead. Mrs. Smith was engrossed in a large book, her tiny thick glasses perched on her nose as she flipped through the pages with a speed that seemed almost frantic.

I stood there, waiting for her to acknowledge me, but the minutes ticked by, and my irritation grew.

Who still keeps records in a book in this day and age of computers? I thought to myself, suppressing an exasperated sigh that threatened to escape my lips.

“Did you say something?” Mrs. Smith’s voice broke through my thoughts. I felt my cheeks flush as I realized I must have made a noise.

“No, no. Me? I said nothing,” I protested, my voice humble. Arguing with Mrs. Smith was the last thing I wanted to do, even if I was seething internally.

“Oh, and how long have you been standing? Please, sit down, dear,” she offered, finally looking up from her book. “I’ve reviewed your results in my courses. You’re a bright young girl who passes my tests with flying colors.”

I appreciated the compliment, but I kept my expression neutral, simply replying, “Thank you, Ma’am.”

However, Mrs. Smith’s next statement caught me completely off guard. “Yes, you’re welcome…but is that why you were listening to songs in my class earlier today and paying no attention?”

My heart sank as I scrambled for a response, caught off guard by her directness. Under her piercing gaze, I felt the heat rise to my cheeks.

I faked a cough before stammering, “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I di-dn’t mean it like that. I just forgot to remove my AirPods. It won’t happen again...and they weren’t even on.”

I hoped my explanation would suffice, but I could see the wheels turning in Mrs. Smith’s mind.

“Mmm, okay. Are you doing anything else today?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

Caught off guard, I blurted out, “No.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my mistake. Mrs. Smith’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glimmer, and I inwardly groaned, knowing I had just opened the door to more work.

With a reassuring smile, she said, “Don’t worry. It won’t take much time. I just need you to write down these numbers from 1 to 1000 in my booklet.”

“Thank you,” she added, handing me a stack of about twenty booklets, each containing a thousand numbers to transcribe.

My hands felt weak as I struggled to hold the weight of the booklets.

As I opened the door to leave, Mrs. Smith interjected with a sly grin, “Oh, and I will be sure to greet Martha for you.”

Martha was my mother, and she and Mrs. Smith were good friends. I stifled a groan, well aware of how my mother would react to this new development.

With a deep sigh, I was about to shut the door when Mrs. Smith’s soft voice interrupted me once more, “…And please close the door gently.”

Suppressing my frustration, I nodded and closed the door as gently as I could before making my way to a quiet spot in the hallway where I could focus on the task at hand.

Opening the first booklet, I picked up my pen and began methodically writing down the numbers, one after another.

The rhythmic scratching of my pen against the paper became a backdrop to my swirling thoughts.

Why had I agreed so readily to this additional work? My mind wandered as I contemplated the implications of my impulsive response. It seemed my willingness to help had morphed into an expectation rather than a choice.

Lost in my musings, I continued to fill the pages with neat rows of numbers. Despite my initial irritation, I couldn’t deny the satisfaction that came with completing a task, even if it wasn’t of my own choosing.

Deep down, I understood that performing these small acts of kindness was important—to Mrs. Smith, to my mother, and to myself.

Hours passed as I diligently worked my way through the booklets, my hands growing weary but my determination unwavering.

With each completed booklet, I felt a sense of accomplishment growing within me, a reminder that even when faced with unexpected detours, there was value in perseverance.

Finally, as I reached the last booklet, I let out a contented sigh, relieved to see the end in sight. With the final number written, I closed the booklet gently, just as Mrs. Smith had requested.

I gathered the completed booklets in my tired hands, feeling a sense of pride despite the unexpected nature of the task.

Returning to Mrs. Smith’s office, I handed her the completed work.

Her eyes sparkled with gratitude as she accepted the booklets. “Thank you, Hanna. Your help means the world to me.”

In that moment, I couldn’t help but smile, realizing that my impulsive agreement had led to a sense of fulfillment and connection I hadn’t anticipated.

Sometimes, saying “yes” to unexpected requests opened doors to unexpected rewards, and I was learning that there was strength in embracing the unexpected.