Everyday Catechism

"I am to teach what?" She nearly screamed. She paced, her black heels slapping against the tiles. Her green eyes raged with fury, and then they turned on her boss which caused the older woman to shrink in fright. 

"A-a catechism, dear. It is your job." Principal Edan raised an eyebrow curiously. She had never seen her teacher act in such a manner. She hadn't expected her to react this way. Ally hadn't ever questioned Principal Edan's logic before. 

Watching her employee with cautious eyes, Edan examined Ally's emotions. Running across her green eyes were many emotions but the one that continue to flit was bitterness. Raking a hand roughly through her thick black mane, Ally nearly screamed in frustration.

Who was Edan to determine what she was to teach? It was a new age, that much was true. But to teach the students a catechism. To practically force feed Christianity to young children who had yet to learn that they could make their own choices. 

Ally was a regular church-goer, with enough knowledge to give the brief summary of the Christian religion without problem. It was her morals that jumped and beat as erractically as her heart did. She could legally teach these children the best catechism that they had ever heard, of course it would be their first. But they were too young. It slapped her heart with bitterness. She wasn't supposed to teach them about God and his plan. 

She was supposed to teach  them to tie their shoes and how to count to twenty. Her green eyes fell on her boss once again. The older woman's brown hair was fading to an unruly white and her once lively brown eyes dulling with age. Wrinkles were on her rounded face as were they on her pink dress that covered her thin frame. 

"No. I won't do it." Ally's determination rang with the shrillness of her voice. "I won't force these children to exhibit something that may not be who they want to be." 

Ally loved her teaching job. She loved the innocence of the children that she had the privelege to be a model. She couldn't and wouldn't taint that innocence. 

"Ally, you must. If you don't the board demands that I find someone who will. Please reconsider." Principal Edan was practically begging. She liked Ally. She liked the way Ally teached, with conviction. Which is why the school board had chosen her to begin teaching the students catechisms. 

"Then fire me. I will not force this religion onto any student, especially when they aren't even old enough to understand that that is what I'm doing." With that said, Ally stomped to the back of the classroom, to her desk and snatched her purse from the drawer. "Good-bye, Principal Edan. And good riddance." 

Ally had nearly made it out of the room when she saw her students in a single file line, marching towards the room like little soldiers. Turning her eyes back to her former boss, she waited for the woman to speak. Sighing she said, "At least finish out this day." With that said, Edan pushed past Ally and into the hallway.

The children soon entered the room as giddy as six year olds are. But intuitive her children were. They quickly picked up on her sober demeanor and the way that she just stood with a frown on her face. "What's wrong, Miss Ally?" They all asked as they circled around her. Big puppy dog eyes stared up at her as the children that she had come to know as her own surrounded her. 

"Well, guys, this is my last day." She sniffled, holding back the sudden tears that threatened to cascade down her cheeks. But she held onto her calm, determined not to upset the children any more than she already had. Their faces all distorted and it appeared that some of them might begin to sob. Tiny, puckered lips began to tremble. 

It was quite a smart move on Principal Edan's part. Here, stay, she had said. When what she had really meant was: See how you're breaking these children's hearts and for what? Something that they won't even understand. Ally could just imagine the older woman scoffing at her choice. 

But nonetheless, she wasn't going to teach a catechism. Not now. Not ever. If it was wrong of her to do so. Then she was quite fine rotting in Hell, because she had been raised in a church of God and that church had taught her to never force her religion upon anyone. Still it was a slap to her heart to see these once happy children so down and depressed about her leaving them.

She hated the word the more she thought about it. It sounded like a plan from Satan himself. But she was sure that that was simply her mind overreacting to the sudden force that had presented itself against her. She loved these children but she loved her morals. It seemed as though it were a battle of wills and she found that the longer she looked at her kids the more she was losing. 

But she wouldn't turn her back on them. Not now. Not ever. And she was going to defend them. Ally had made up her mind. She was going to go to the school board and stand up for them. Even if it cost her more than her job. 

With her heart and mind made up, she turned on a movie for her kids and then sat down at her desk. She began by writing a letter to the school board, expressing her concerns and demanding that they meet with her as soon as possible. Then she began writing letters to the parents, asking for their opinion on the matter. She expressed that she wasn't for the idea and wanted to be sure that they knew of the situation. 

The more letters she wrote the more she found that her day was becoming a catechism itself. She was faced with trials, demons, and influences that were trying to turn her from God's path. And that she couldn't allow. 

 The purity of these children she exhibited on a daily basis, even now she could see the impact that God had chosen to make upon their lives. Each child sat completely entranced by the educational program that she had place. Each child revealed that they wore their heart on the sleeve, even knowing that they could possibly be hurt.

True soldiers each of them were and each boy and girl inspired her to work harder, play more, and just live life to her fullest potential because she was sure that if she started living like a child again, then life would be more satifactory. 

Realizing this, she came to the conclusion that she didn't have to teach catechisms to these students because they were living, breathing examples of God's finer works of art. It wasn't her that was the teacher at this moment, it was the children that she had vowed to teach that taught her.