Everyone had their own idiosyncrasies. It could range from being peculiar to being absolutely unique and delightful. Shahar liked to think that hers fell under latter. Not only was it the reason she was here in Sunday School, it was also the source of having led to find her now best friend around five years back. They had come a long way, she thought wistfully. Schooling her ruminations, Shahar turned to the attendance registrar on the small table in front of her and stared at the list of beautiful names that lay spread. She really couldn't contain her child-like excitement, for one of her little idiosyncrasies was to collect and marvel unique Muslim names she came across. Shahar found it absolutely captivating to read out the names in her head, again and again, relishing their beauty.
Shahar rowed her eyes at the attendance list again.
Sobia, Farwah, Meeza, Shermin, Ashmiya, Sahala, Iffath, Afna, Haifa.
She then flipped the page to glance at the boys' names.
Dayyan, Turhan, Sabeel, Hani, Rikaz, Talaal, Rasheem, Ziyaad, Urwah.
Such beautiful names!
Shahar then glanced at the numerous five-year-olds sat in the classroom, colouring the assigned sheet of paper handed out to them. Her heart fluttered at the beautiful sight. Children were such cute gifts from Allah. She was glad that she could spare one weekend in every two-three months to volunteer in Sunday School. Spending time with these munchkins was definitely worth it.
Across the room, she noticed Fayha, crouched beside the chair of Meeza, aiding in whatever the little girl with two cute pony tails was asking her to. It was an incredible achievement on her part to have made friends with a girl like Fayha, she thought, for despite their many similarities, her impulsive nature and her friend's steady approach proved to be a big difference than she perceived.
As if sensing a gaze on her, Fayha looked up from what she was doing and glanced toward her. She flashed a smile before returning to her task. Shahar didn't have to wait long to be entertained, for little Urwah came walking up to her.
"You done with the colouring?" she asked as he came to stand beside her table.
"No." he said with a shake of his head, "But I recalled something that I want to share with you."
"Oh, what is it?"
"Yesterday..." he began, his face reminiscent and full of expression, "Baba and I were having dinner when he told Mama that his heart broke over something. I told him hearts are soft and that it does not break or cut like that. So, he began to laugh and stroked my hair."
He turned his inquisitive eyes on his assistant teacher, "You tell me, Miss Shahar, does our hearts cut like that?"
Shahar couldn't resist a chuckle, "No, cutie pie!" She exclaimed, pinching his cheek, "Hearts don't cut, but they definitely do melt."
"Melt?!"
"Yes! Like how my heart just melted at your adorable question."
Urwah stared at his teacher, his face looking troubled, "But how does it happen? Only ice creams melt."
"I'll explain it to you in recess, dear, how about you go and get your colouring done? Miss Fayha won't be happy if she finds you with your work incomplete."
He hesitantly nodded before scrambling back to his chair. As expected, when the clock passed the mark of half an hour, the toddlers began getting restless.
"Alright, class!" Shahar heard Fayha exclaim, "Stack the crayons and sheet aside. We'll go over a short story before breaking off for snacks and play at recess."
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Few boys collectively groaned, "I don't want to listen to the story, Miss! It's boring!"
"Suleiman AS and the ants! Have you heard of this intriguing story before?" Fayha asked, dismissing the protests.
"No, miss!" an excited girl from back called out, "I want to listen to the story!"
Girls were invariably more compliant.
For the next ten minutes, she saw the excruciating struggle Fayha went through to narrate the story in a palpable, exciting manner which a child could understand; while trying her best to ebb the steady resistance and disturbance from some of the uninterested toddlers. It was clear that Fayha struggled to manage them. It made Shahar wonder why Fayha still undertook the responsibility of teaching them.
As if on cue, Fayha turned to her, "Do stop staring at me and help, will you? Didn't you come to extend your aid?"
Shahar grinned, "Oh, I did. But what can I do, my friend is so enchanting sometimes that it's hard to get my eyes off her!"
"Righttt..." Fayha dragged, "Now come over and assist."
Shahar abandoned the small table and chair on which she sat on the side, and walked over to the front. Fayha decided to sit aside and gulp some water to replenish her dry throat. It was hard to get by these toddlers without speaking in her loudest voice. The heavy rain outside didn't help.
Shahar clapped to get attention, "Can you all spare me a minute, munchkins, I have something exciting to share."
For the rest of the class, Fayha watched in fascination as Shahar jigged from one foot to another, laughing, explaining, prancing, helping. Fayha couldn't help but watch her as if transfixed. She'd always known Shahar had a way with kids, yet it was refreshing to observe after so long.
Fayha had always loved teaching. It was therapeutic to be able to gather, assemble, polish and present content to the ready-to-absorb minds. However, her love for teaching was restricted to teenagers and adults. Children were not her forte, especially not kids. But teenagers- Fayha just loved teaching teenagers. The challenge that came with it made it all the more enjoyable. In fact, she learnt as much as she taught the budding adults. And although, she would have loved to say the same for the toddlers whom she taught in Sunday School, it wasn't. Fayha was grateful that she managed to pull through every weekend. Perhaps, she wasn't that bad, but seeing Shahar trance and direct them so well, Fayha couldn't help feel her inadequacy.
When the bell rang and recess struck in, the duo led the children to park, after they had had their snacks. The toddlers rushed and grabbed onto whatever entertainment they could find.
"You were amazing in there, you know that?" Fayha voiced, leaning on the auditorium's wall as she stood beside Shahar, watching the kids have fun at the nearby play area.
"When am I not amazing, you tell me? I have always been and will be." she goaded with a grin, "You tell me, why do you still do it when clearly, you could have done better with a bunch of teens?"
Fayha shrugged, "The youth wing was running short of hands to teach the kids. Since they desperately wanted someone and couldn't find anyone who fit the position, I stepped forward. Besides, I'd have gladly taken up classes for teenagers if there was one at morning. The ones offered are only on Saturday evenings and I believe they already have teachers for that."
"I see. That's really nice of you though; to volunteer to sacrifice your weekends for this."
"I don't mind, to be honest. I could learn from the experience."
"For your future?"
Fayha stared at the mischievous eyes of her friend, "You may think so if you want."
