When the teacher arrived home, she was greeted by Dahlia still lying in her bed feeling
sorry for herself. She tried to talk some sense into her, but the pity party was so deep that teacher could not get through the tightly, closed-door.
Teacher had led a life that had caused many tribulations, forcing her to face her problems or drown, and she saw in Dahlia, what she herself had been once upon a time. She made up her mind, that if Dahlia would not help herself, then she would help her for her.
She left Dahlia to herself and went into the living room, where she found her phone book and her address book. She went through them and wrote down names and phone numbers that may be able to help her. She began her journey of healing for Dahlia. She made call after call, scribbling out names who could be of no help, and making marks beside the ones who possibly could help in one way or another. She set up appointments with the ones who drew hope and for the next week she was being drawn into the circles of possibilities for Dahlia’s problems.
One by one through out the week, she visited her appointment. She spoke of her problems with her student, gave a little background, and jotted down notes from the words and advice given to her.
It was a tiring week, but by the end, she had names and phone numbers and addresses of the best. She knew that Dahlia was in trouble, but she also realized that without a swift kick of tough love, this girl could end up being a waste on this good earth.
Dahlia stayed mainly in her room, and when her stomach could take no more, she would wander to the kitchen and grab a bite to eat and take it back to her room. Each morning and night, the teacher would try to draw her out of her sadness and loss of self-worth, but Dahlia refused to be helped.
Teacher left her alone and went about her tasks of finding the best help she could afford and offer. She had three names, and called each of these and set appointments up and met with them all in three days.
One of them, told of a wonderful psychiatric hospital that could possible help with quite a bit of therapy offered. The teacher laughed this off, remembering what help had been offered to her own self and how she had fought it and went more into herself. The next person told of a school, that was very strict, what you and I would call a boot camp school today. The problem with this was that the school was almost an hour away, and she wasn’t sure how she would be able to visit Dahlia if she were to be placed there.
There were good things about it though. Careful eyes kept on each student. No nudging to do what was right, but a punishment if not doing what was ordered. Three meals a day. Teacher asked if an appointment could be set up for this school, and that if she could, she would bring Dahlia along, but there were no promises that she could get the girl to budge.
The call was made and the date set for arrival for a visit. The teacher left with a big thank-you being said, and a smile on her face, because she was certain she had found the solution to this.
When she arrived home, she went and checked on Dahlia, whom she found sitting on her bed, uncovered, and actually dressed, and was gazing toward the warmth of the window. She told the student that she had some information that she wanted to introduce to her and that she expected her in the living room or kitchen where they would go over it. Dahlia glanced her way as she heard the words, but said nothing.
The teacher left her sitting there, knowing she better make one last phone call for today, cancelling the last appointment. After the phone call was made she went to her record player and placed a record on it that helped bring softness to the room and a flowing calmness. She went on to prepare dinner for the two of them, believing that things were going to be changing, and their future was looking brighter. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn cut from the cob, bread and butter with jelly and hot tea, was the menu for tonight.
The smells drifted through Dahlia’s nose and soon the saliva started forming in her mouth, as she had not eaten much for so many days, she realized she actually was famished. She climbed out of bed and went across the hall to the bathroom using her hands to guide her through each step. She splashed her face with water, and slowly ran a comb through her tangled hair. When she thought she looked the best she could for now, she went to the kitchen, felt her chair and sat down as if the teacher was her maid or slave.
The teacher said nothing to this, as she was just relieved Dahlia was out of her room. There was not much conversation taken place during this meal. Teacher noticed Dahlia eating and doing not much chewing, and she smiled to herself, as her student devoured each bite.
After dinner was over the dirty settings were placed on the counter top waiting to be washed, but this could be done later. Now, it was time to let Dahlia know of the plans for her future, and her new school. She added hot water to their tea cups and sitting back down across from Dahlia, cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter, ready to start her battle of winning this war.
The teacher began by letting Dahlia know that what had happened the past week or so was not her fault, that neither of them had planned on this or had done anything to help cause this. She let her student know that she loved her and that she knew she had a diamond sitting here across from her, and she would continue to be of help to get her through her schooling.
Dahlia felt with her fingers until they wrapped around the warm tea-cup and opened her mouth to protest, but the teacher would not give her a chance to speak.