Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Oh, no- No I’m quite alright.” She leaned down to pick up the few books that had fallen from her arms. “You move so quietly I didn’t know you were behind me.”

Natalie fanned through the pages and checked the cover corners to make sure that they weren’t damaged before putting them in her shopping basket. “I was looking for some new and interesting recipes to try this season now that the weather’s changing. Soups and warm sandwiches sounded easy enough to make.”

“I think these would be easy enough to make,” she nodded decisively before standing up.

Her expression was kind and full of patience, unbothered by the minor inconvenience. “Were you able to find what you were looking for?”

Natalie smiled softly, “a bookstore is usually where you go to fill your mind with something rather than clear it.”

“This book here,” she plucked one out of the basket to show. “It’s roasted vegetable soups and bisques.” She always did enjoy a good creamy smooth soup, or broth, for dipping warm grilled cheese sandwiches in. “The ones you mentioned; are they family recipes, or something you found online.”

“My name is Natalie.” She replied, feeling a bit uneasy about being asked for her phone number. E-mail she is ok with since students and parents alike both have access to that. But her personal contact information was something that was usually kept guarded; held safe for family and close friends in case of emergencies. This was one of the only ways she could safeguard her sparse free time from interruption.

To keep an air of friendliness she continued on with her introduction. “I’m a creative writing teacher for middle and high school students. However, after school, I offer cooking classes for students twice a week. Which is why I try to keep my eyes out for some simple, yet affordable, meals. My students seem to enjoy it especially since some come from lower-income households and can’t participate in extracurricular activities, such as sports.”

“What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking.” Sadie looked young enough to still be in college but could very well be one of those young ladies who age gracefully and be older than she appears.

As a teacher, Natalie was acutely aware of the current generation and fashion trends despite the school uniforms the students were expected to wear. The number of parents who permitted their children to wear makeup to school was astounding but the application on some were surprisingly professional.

“We have accepted volunteers. Usually, it is open to parents of students or older siblings who have graduated from our school. But I’m sure I could ask the principal at Crystal Academy if they were open to community involvement.” For Natalie, it would be helpful to have a second pair of adult eyes on the kids since some liked to goof around.

She put the book back in her basket and began walking towards the check-out line. “I’ll ask the cashier for a piece of paper so we can trade emails, if you’re ok with that.”

Natalie chuckled at the pun; intended or not, the comment about eating it up was amusing. “Might need to rethink the name, though. Calling it ‘Adulting Skills’ might send them running. It’s hard enough just getting some of them to turn in their homework on time.”

She was fortunate this year, her students were generally well-behaved. But there were always a few who, despite having the potential to grow into capable adults, were barely managing to stay afloat as teenagers. Life had thrown challenges their way, many beyond their control, and that was why she stayed after school, offering her time and support to those who needed it.

Noticing the cashier’s raised hand, Natalie stepped forward, engaging in a brief but polite exchange before paying for her books and asking for a piece of blank receipt paper, or sticky note, before forgetting. She wrote her name and contact information, including email and phone number, “Here you go, Sadie.” Her name was repeated as a means to commit it to memory. “I included both my personal and work email.” The number was to her cell since she couldn’t risk an interruption while teaching class.

Natalie started making her way towards the exit so the next customer could be helped. “Other than modeling, what other activities do you enjoy?”

“Thank you,” Natalie nodded and smiled at Sadie as she stepped over the threshold and out into the crisp open air.

“I completely agree about the homework,” she admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The challenge is that some subjects just need more dedicated lesson time. And let’s be honest, every class has a student or two who treat interruptions like an Olympic sport. It’s hard enough keeping everyone on track, let alone leaving them enough time to actually get their work done in class.”

She exhaled, thinking about her own students. “That’s why I structure by class the way I do; fifteen minutes of writing from a prompt to warm up, thirty minutes of focused lesson time, then the last fifteen minutes to work on their short stories which will be critiqued by their peers and graded after final revisions. It gives them a rhythm, a way to develop their writing without feeling overwhelmed.”

Even with that setup, some students still struggled. Some would sit frozen, staring at a blank page as if the right word would magically appear. Others got caught up in the need for perfection, hesitating to put anything down at all. It is why she often told them if they couldn’t think of something to write, she’d rather see a page of ‘I don’t know’ instead of nothing.

“Writing is as much about confidence as it is about skill,” she continued. “And sometimes, I feel like my biggest job isn’t just teaching, it’s convincing them that their stories are worth telling in the first place.”

“It’s through these morning prompts I have a basic idea about video games, they come up every so often. But I feel like so much of my time is student-focused that my way to decompress is through cooking.” But with Jayce, her nephew, now living with her full time, even that has its own difficulties.

Natalie hummed thoughtfully in consideration, “It truly depends on the season. Right now I’m enjoying making various soups and stews.” With the weather getting nippy it was something she could make easily in bulk and have throughout the week. “I enjoy learning how to cook different ethnic foods such as curry or tostadas de carne molida, ground beef tostadas essentially.” She explained just in case she was mispronouncing the word.

Although she was a creative writing teacher, Natalie was not bilingual, at least not fluently anyway.

As they passed by an alleyway a reflection of light caught her attention, and made her pause as she turned to investigate where it had come from. “I’m sorry, can you hold on for a moment, please.” Natalie shifted the books to her side and proceeded a few feet into the alleyway where she saw a simple-looking mirror. There was nothing extraordinary about it, but it was still in perfect condition. No cracks or chips in the surface or edges.

I wonder why someone would throw something like this away. There’s a thrift store not far from here, I’m sure someone would have given it a good home. Natalie knelt down to pick it up and the moment her fingertips touched the smooth surface a surge of energy coursed through her. It was a comforting warmth that would be difficult to explain; welcoming, like the first breath of air after being underwater for nearly too long.

For a moment she remained there in stunned silence before finally moving and it was as she rose to her feet that she realized that her clothes were different. In place of her knitted sweater was a long flowing dress; opalescent with of touch of pastel rainbow, and large golden stars. “This, this feels like a strange fantasy.” Of all the fiction she had read throughout the years, the only one that came to mind was the story of Cinderella, but there was no fairy godmother or person with a wand nearby.

“Sadie…?” the question of ‘what’s going on’ remained unsaid as she turned towards the woman she’d just met.