Fairy Tale of Future Self

 Fairy Tale of Future Self

I wake up with a refreshing breeze and birds chirping.

It's 6:34 am. 

I stretch my arms and my beloved man turns over in his sleep.

He opens his eyes with a habit-like grin on his face. 

He cuddles with me saying how beautiful I am and the morning is.

After ten minutes of cuddles, I finally get out of the bedroom. 

While taking a hot bath, 

my husband starts to make breakfast for the family. 

I give him a thank-you kiss on his cheek.

And go straight to my children's room and wake them up 

by hugging them with my warmly-heated body after a long shower.

In my dressing room, I pick the one that I imagined to wear last night.

Fluffy pink sweater with an ivory skirt.

Then we have a morning supper altogether, sharing each other's plans and silly pranks. 

My husband also gets ready with my recommendation of what to wear. 

I intentionally match his with my clothes. 

We drive to the school. 

He works near the school and he drops me off with cheerful words 

that endear him more and more day by day. 

I begin to greet my students right after I take off the car. 

I love the very moment that I give off my energy and share feelings with the students.

Making eye contact, I also welcome the co-teachers that share the teachers' room together. 

I organize class materials to use today 

and have a short time to transcribe today's bible phrases and mumble them

picturing students who especially need to be taken care of. 

During the classes,

I avoid paradoxical disconnected teaching.

I rather try my best to make students feel comfortable and inspired

by sparking them with my enthusiasm and sincerity. 

At break times and lunchtime,

students come by telling me some fun stuff or worries they were holding back.

I giggle with them,

or I sympathize with them.

Always, I do it with genuine attention and earnest hope for them to be better in any way.

After hard but rewarding working hours,

I return to my home watching the beautiful sunlight. 

As I arrive home earlier than my husband on Monday,

I make dinner with my gut feelings about what my family would love. 

Children come back home after they hang out with neighborhood friends.

My husband comes back home holding flowers and my favorite dessert,

all of sudden as usual.

I greet him with a prankful hug and giggles in his ears. 

My children set the dishes and cutleries. 

And we pray together before digging in. 

We share what made one happy and upset. 

We listen, care, laugh, and cry together. 

This conversation routine almost always makes our plates become colder.

But we usually don't care that much. 

Because we weigh each other the most.

My husband does the dishes and I do the laundry.

My children are folding the dried clothes together. 

My husband and I watch Netflix documentaries together.

And we prepare tomorrow's work on the desk facing each other. 

Finishing that, we grab a book to read together.

Shortly after, I feel sleepy and my husband pulls my leg. 

We burst into laughter.

We brush our teeth, take a shower, and pick each other's sleep wears. 

Before we lie down, he prays for me, I pray for him, and we pray for children. 

I chatter with him telling him about what happened in school and what I felt in those situations.

He also shares what he felt grateful and discouraged about. 

He listens, and I listen to each other. 

We eventually unburden each other's unnecessary gravity 

and make one another's mood brighter.

He spoons me.

I hold his hand feeling his other hand stroking down my hair.

And we fall asleep unknowingly.

With co-related appreciation and affection toward God.