Khemrys (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
homeless_pard) wrote2023-04-28 01:58 am
homeless_pard) wrote2023-04-28 01:58 am
Entry tags:
My children may be brash
Who: Khemrys and a Kindergarten teacher
When: The twins first month of kindergarten
What: Some difference of opinions.
Khemrys swept into the room as she always did, gracefully and with skirt pooling around her ankles. Ms. Hurst winced and looked up, "Ms. Schuyler..."
"Mrs," Khemrys corrected gently. "Are you well?"
She flushed, somehow the immigrant mother always made her feel...frumpy. She shouldn't, she was a teacher which meant she was in control her and yet, well..."will your husband be joining us?"
Khemrys blinked and smiled slightly, "not today I'm afraid, you were quite clear in your meeting time and he is otherwise occupied."
"Ah, you don't...work?" A foreign bride for a housewife? She imagined that might be easier with the father's, ah, connections.
"I own a shop," she corrected. "My manager was able to cover though I'll need to be back soon," she noted gently. "So please, what did my children do to disturb things?"
"Please sit," she invited, then tried not to be distracted by the woman's braid pooling on the floor like her skirt due to the kiddie chair. Having only child sized chairs was suppose to remind the parents who held authority in the classroom but the woman seemed utterly unfazed. School hadn't prepared her for that honestly. "There seems to be, ah, well, your children are very...devout."
"Devout?" Khemrys blinked. "Whyever would it be an issue?"
"Well you see," Ms. Hurt sighed, "whenever one of the others blesses them or talk about God they talk about their little imaginary gods and bless them back..."
Khemrys blinked then couldn't help laughing, "oh my. You think my children so imaginative they may create gods?" she chuckled.
"Well it's just not Christian, and they aren't being raised, ah, in the local coven are they?"
She couldn't help chuckling at that, no, not with those ladies for certain, though Gunnora was making a dent there at least, "my children are under Gunnora's grace until they are of age to choose their own following," she assured.
"So they're, ah, pagan?"
"I'm not certain what you mean," she blinked.
"Non-Christian household," she noted primly.
"Ah, the religion that burns our friends and my brother," she sighed, "why would we be so cruel and raise our children to be such?"
Ms. Hurst swallowed, wondering of this might mean she should call CPS, "believers are protected from the darkness in this world. So we see our faith is real."
"All faith is real," Khemrys noted gently, "belief is in the person, it is upon the gods to answer such. Yours answers with burning crosses, mine takes tea with us. How are they different? More importantly where is the concern for the classroom? This is not a religious school yes?"
"It's a public school," Ms. Hurst answered automatically, "it's just it makes the others uncomfortable."
"Is it rude to offer blessings in kind when blessed?"
"Well no..."
"Then certainly that's not an issue." Khemrys sighed, standing and brushing out her skirts easily.
"But they're not real..."
Khemrys cocked an eyebrow and sighed, "you are to teach the children yet are so closed minded?" she chided gently. "The gods of this world walked far and echoes remain. The gods of mine have come to see to their people in their stead. Lands shouldst be tended shouldst yours return," she sighed, touching her amulet gently.
"God isn't dead!"
"No, just far from his people," she noted gently. "Please be kind to the children, all of them. Let them learn of all things, not merely what makes you...comfortable."
"I...I..." what was she suppose to do with that even? This had gotten so off track really. "Can't you just ask them to be normal?!"
"Have you asked the others to withhold blessings?" Khemrys sighed.
"Well no, it's reflex really, you can't expect children to understand..."
"Precisely," Khemrys smiled. "My children will be kind and generous, and wish health and happiness upon others, it is in their nature. A reflex. Even as the other children will."
"I can't support..."
Khemrys paused, eyes narrowing, "you would tell my children their faith is not real? In a place that does not teach religion?"
The air was warming, damn public schools and budgets letting the AC's break down, and she could smell, she could almost smell...was that grapes? Ms. Hurst licked her lips nervously and blinked as they tasted of honey, "no, no, we don't do that..."
"That is for the best," Khemrys agreed simply, leaving.
Or Ms. Hurst thought she left, but there was a woman still standing at the door, a long dark braid falling from under a hood...or was that red curls? Braids with beads? She winced, looking away, "good meeting, Mrs. Schuyler."
"Hello child," the lips under the hood smiled. "Blessings upon you."
"Um...thank you?" she swallowed.
"Of course child. I understand your confusion, but you need peace and patience to handle children," the figure advanced toward the desk and offered her hand, dark skinned, weathered, calloused fingers...
...or was it milk toned and elegant, artists fingers?
Tanned with chipped and chewed nails?
Either way she couldn't help reaching forward to touch those shifting fingers, an overwhelming sense of...calm...flowing over her. "Oh."
"Be well," Gunnora wished gently, fading away.
When: The twins first month of kindergarten
What: Some difference of opinions.
Khemrys swept into the room as she always did, gracefully and with skirt pooling around her ankles. Ms. Hurst winced and looked up, "Ms. Schuyler..."
"Mrs," Khemrys corrected gently. "Are you well?"
She flushed, somehow the immigrant mother always made her feel...frumpy. She shouldn't, she was a teacher which meant she was in control her and yet, well..."will your husband be joining us?"
Khemrys blinked and smiled slightly, "not today I'm afraid, you were quite clear in your meeting time and he is otherwise occupied."
"Ah, you don't...work?" A foreign bride for a housewife? She imagined that might be easier with the father's, ah, connections.
"I own a shop," she corrected. "My manager was able to cover though I'll need to be back soon," she noted gently. "So please, what did my children do to disturb things?"
"Please sit," she invited, then tried not to be distracted by the woman's braid pooling on the floor like her skirt due to the kiddie chair. Having only child sized chairs was suppose to remind the parents who held authority in the classroom but the woman seemed utterly unfazed. School hadn't prepared her for that honestly. "There seems to be, ah, well, your children are very...devout."
"Devout?" Khemrys blinked. "Whyever would it be an issue?"
"Well you see," Ms. Hurt sighed, "whenever one of the others blesses them or talk about God they talk about their little imaginary gods and bless them back..."
Khemrys blinked then couldn't help laughing, "oh my. You think my children so imaginative they may create gods?" she chuckled.
"Well it's just not Christian, and they aren't being raised, ah, in the local coven are they?"
She couldn't help chuckling at that, no, not with those ladies for certain, though Gunnora was making a dent there at least, "my children are under Gunnora's grace until they are of age to choose their own following," she assured.
"So they're, ah, pagan?"
"I'm not certain what you mean," she blinked.
"Non-Christian household," she noted primly.
"Ah, the religion that burns our friends and my brother," she sighed, "why would we be so cruel and raise our children to be such?"
Ms. Hurst swallowed, wondering of this might mean she should call CPS, "believers are protected from the darkness in this world. So we see our faith is real."
"All faith is real," Khemrys noted gently, "belief is in the person, it is upon the gods to answer such. Yours answers with burning crosses, mine takes tea with us. How are they different? More importantly where is the concern for the classroom? This is not a religious school yes?"
"It's a public school," Ms. Hurst answered automatically, "it's just it makes the others uncomfortable."
"Is it rude to offer blessings in kind when blessed?"
"Well no..."
"Then certainly that's not an issue." Khemrys sighed, standing and brushing out her skirts easily.
"But they're not real..."
Khemrys cocked an eyebrow and sighed, "you are to teach the children yet are so closed minded?" she chided gently. "The gods of this world walked far and echoes remain. The gods of mine have come to see to their people in their stead. Lands shouldst be tended shouldst yours return," she sighed, touching her amulet gently.
"God isn't dead!"
"No, just far from his people," she noted gently. "Please be kind to the children, all of them. Let them learn of all things, not merely what makes you...comfortable."
"I...I..." what was she suppose to do with that even? This had gotten so off track really. "Can't you just ask them to be normal?!"
"Have you asked the others to withhold blessings?" Khemrys sighed.
"Well no, it's reflex really, you can't expect children to understand..."
"Precisely," Khemrys smiled. "My children will be kind and generous, and wish health and happiness upon others, it is in their nature. A reflex. Even as the other children will."
"I can't support..."
Khemrys paused, eyes narrowing, "you would tell my children their faith is not real? In a place that does not teach religion?"
The air was warming, damn public schools and budgets letting the AC's break down, and she could smell, she could almost smell...was that grapes? Ms. Hurst licked her lips nervously and blinked as they tasted of honey, "no, no, we don't do that..."
"That is for the best," Khemrys agreed simply, leaving.
Or Ms. Hurst thought she left, but there was a woman still standing at the door, a long dark braid falling from under a hood...or was that red curls? Braids with beads? She winced, looking away, "good meeting, Mrs. Schuyler."
"Hello child," the lips under the hood smiled. "Blessings upon you."
"Um...thank you?" she swallowed.
"Of course child. I understand your confusion, but you need peace and patience to handle children," the figure advanced toward the desk and offered her hand, dark skinned, weathered, calloused fingers...
...or was it milk toned and elegant, artists fingers?
Tanned with chipped and chewed nails?
Either way she couldn't help reaching forward to touch those shifting fingers, an overwhelming sense of...calm...flowing over her. "Oh."
"Be well," Gunnora wished gently, fading away.