Chapter 6

Like I said before, Ms. Oliviero fell off the podium that day and her cheekbone hit the corner of the table, and I thought she was dead, just like my grandfather or Melina's husband, who died at work. I thought Leila was responsible, that she would be sentenced to death. After a while - I can't say for how long - nothing happened, just both people disappeared, the teacher and the student disappeared from our lives.

But what happened after that was amazing, Ms. Oliviero returned to school alive and she started taking care of Lila instead of punishing her, which is the normal thing to do, but the teacher kept praising her.

This new phase began when Mrs. Cerullo, Lila's mother, was called to the school. One morning, the janitor came knocking on the door to inform us that Lila's mother was there. Nunzia Cerullo came in right away, and I barely recognized her. She was like most women in this part of town, disheveled all day, wearing slippers and old clothes, but that day she showed up in her holiday (wedding, communion, confirmation, and funeral) finery. She was dressed all in black, with a black lacquered leather bag in her hand and high heels that made it hard on her puffy feet. She brought the teacher two packages, one of coffee and one of sugar, both wrapped in paper.

The teacher happily accepted the gifts, her eyes on Leila, and I was a little puzzled by what she said to Leila's mother and the class. We were all just in first grade, just starting to learn letters and numbers - counting from one to ten. I had the best grades in the class, I knew all the letters, I could count from one to ten, my teacher praised me all the time for my good handwriting, and I always won the three-colored medal, which the teacher had sewn herself. Yet to my surprise, Leila made the teacher fall and go to the hospital, and the teacher now says that she is the best learner in the class. She was indeed the worst student because she threw toilet paper dipped in ink at us. If Leila hadn't been naughty, the teacher wouldn't have fallen off the podium and bruised her cheekbone. Moreover, before the teacher had been punishing Leila with a wooden stick by making her kneel on the floor behind the blackboard. But now as a teacher, as a human being, Ms. Oliviero was very pleased, because a few days ago, she discovered something magical quite by accident.

At this point, she paused, as if she couldn't find the right words, or rather she had to tell Leila's mother, and us: facts speak louder than words. She took a piece of chalk and wrote a word (I don't remember which one now, I couldn't read then, so I'll say a random word) on the blackboard - "sun" - and asked Leila.

"Cerulo, what is written here?"

The whole classroom fell into silence, and everyone was filled with curiosity. Leila smiled a little and looked like she was making a face. She turned sideways and leaned her whole body against the body of her tablemate, who was full of displeasure. With a huff, Leila read, "The sun."

Nunzia Cerullo looked at her teacher, her gaze not very sure, even a little frightened. Oliviero didn't seem to understand: why didn't Leila's mother share her enthusiasm? The teacher had to assume that Nunzia could not read or that she was not quite sure that the word written on the blackboard was "sun", and she frowned. To explain the situation to Leila and to praise our student, the teacher said.

"Very good! It does say 'sun' on the board."

Then she said to Leila.

"Come here, Cerullo, come to the blackboard."

Reluctantly, Leila went to the blackboard and the teacher handed her a piece of chalk.

"You write 'chalk' for this one ......"

Leila concentrated very hard, trembled, and wrote a "penny" in a crooked way.

Mrs. Oliviero completed the word, and Mrs. Cerullo, seeing the teacher's correction, said to her daughter in frustration, "You wrote it wrong."

But the teacher immediately reassured Mrs. Cerullo by saying.

"No, there is no problem. Leila should indeed practice, but she can already read and write, the question is who taught her?"

Mrs. Cerullo bowed her head and said.

"I didn't teach it."

"Did anyone in your building teach her?"

Nunzia shook her head very forcefully.

At this point, the teacher, with a sincere appreciation, asked Leila in front of all of us.

"Who taught you to read and write? Cerullo ......"

Leila was only six years old; she was very thin then, with dark hair, wearing a dark smock and a small pink flower at the neck. She replied.

"I ......"