Not every day as a SEA Teacher is filled with classroom energy and lively student interaction. Today was a little different—a reminder that we are still human, and even in the middle of a beautiful journey, our bodies sometimes ask for rest.
This morning, I had to excuse myself from classroom observation because I wasn’t feeling well. I woke up with a persistent cough, and my throat felt dry, sore, and painful. It was difficult to speak, let alone teach or engage actively in the classroom.
Though I felt disappointed that I couldn’t be with the learners today, I knew that listening to my body and resting was the right thing to do. I didn’t expect that this quiet, slower day would become a moment of genuine connection and gratitude.
Even though I was away from home, I wasn’t alone. One of my fellow SEA Teachers, Miss Yeni, who has also become a dear friend and buddy during this program, noticed I wasn’t feeling well. With so much kindness in her heart, she brought me something warm to drink and something to eat to help me feel better.
Her thoughtful gesture touched me deeply. It’s in these small, quiet moments that we realize how much people care—not because they have to, but because they want to. I felt seen, cared for, and supported—like I had a friend beside me who truly understood.
More than anything, I am deeply grateful to MI Tarbiyatul Banat. Being far from the Philippines and away from my family can sometimes feel isolating, especially when you’re sick—but the love and concern I felt from the school community reminded me that I now have a second family here in Lamongan.
Bu Inda, the school principal, who I lovingly call my “Mother in the school,” made sure I was comfortable, encouraged me to rest, and reminded me that my well-being matters. She treats me not just as a guest teacher, but as a young daughter who is part of their family. That level of warmth and care is something I will never forget.
Their actions today brought tears to my eyes—not out of sadness, but because they reminded me so much of my mother back home in the Philippines. Every time I felt unwell growing up, my Nanay was always there—ready with warm soup, a soothing voice, and gentle hands that felt like magic. She knew how to make everything better, even without words.
That same motherly care I felt today, from both Miss Yeni and Bu Inda, made me feel safe, loved, and comforted. For a moment, I could almost hear my Nanay saying, “Rest, anak. You’ll be okay.”
I’m learning that being a good teacher also means knowing when to rest, listening to your body, and trusting the people around you to support you. That’s the kind of care I want to give my future students someday—compassion that goes beyond the classroom.
As I continue to rest and recover, I carry with me a heart full of gratitude—for the people who showed me care, for a school that treats me like family, and for this incredible SEA Teacher journey that continues to teach me something new every day, even on the quiet ones.
To MI Tarbiyatul Banat, Bu Inda, and Miss Yeni—thank you for your kindness, your care, and your hearts. I may be far from home, but because of you, I never feel alone. You reminded me of home, of love, and of the hands that first taught me what care truly means.
“Teaching may take us across oceans, but kindness will always feel like home.”
