Money
"How do you do it?"
"I couldn't imagine having to deal with that."
"You're a saint."
"I bet the income helps a lot."
Rachel winced at every compliment. Usually, she revelled in praise. Easily swayed by a little bit of flattery. It never hurt, after all.
But with time, she had come to find it distasteful. Not only was it impertinent toward her, but toward the students. And nobody disrespected her children.
People always wanted to ask why she did it- what the benefits were for her. As if she could never have done this by choice. But the answer was more complex, more personal, than she ever cared to admit.
So, she smiled. Gave that sparkling laugh that was so commonplace for her; the governors were particularly fond of it. And she told them it was because she loved it.
Not a lie. Yet, that was the most congenial answer.
Like a pageant queen, she stood there and made peace. With herself, the students, the parents, the world.
She did it so no other child would have to experience what she had, that they would never have to claw their way through life to gain even a semblance of education. One that others would take for granted. Children should never have to beg for life. Sell themselves wantonly for the world to see, where adults still refused to help them.
Rachel would not be that adult. She did it because she cared; she loved them, cared for them.
It was never about the acclaim, her career, the money…
No.
It was always about the children.