After finishing his meal, Andrew felt the urge to take a walk, hoping the fresh air would clear his mind. The warmth of home lingered faintly as he stepped outside into the brisk, cool air. Above him, the dull grey sky began to shift, and tiny white flakes started to drift down, twirling softly in the breeze. Snow was falling again, delicate and magical, transforming the world with its quiet beauty.
As Andrew walked along the empty street, the crunch of his boots on the thin layer of snow was the only sound. He was lost in thought when a cheerful voice broke through his reverie.
“Hi!”
Andrew turned just in time to see a little girl bounding toward him, her rosy cheeks glowing with excitement. She couldn’t have been more than eight years old, and the brightness in her eyes rivaled the sparkling snowflakes landing on her hat and scarf.
“Did you know Christmas is almost here?” she burst out, unable to contain herself. “I already got my present from Santa—a Barbie house! It’s the best one ever! It has lights, and it’s huge, and—” She paused for dramatic effect, throwing her hands up in the air, “—Santa gave it to me early! Isn’t that awesome?”
Andrew couldn’t help but laugh, a full, warm sound that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and for the first time that day, he felt truly present, as if the world had suddenly sharpened into focus.
“That *is* awesome!” he said, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. “A Barbie house with lights? You must’ve been extra good this year for Santa to make such a special delivery.”
The girl’s face lit up, her grin so wide it seemed to brighten the entire street. “Yeah! That’s what my mom said too! And I’m going to show it to everyone on Christmas Day. My cousins are going to be so jealous!”
Andrew chuckled again, shaking his head in amazement at her sheer joy. “I’m sure they will be. Sounds like you’ve got the best Christmas gift on the block.”
She nodded vigorously, the pigtails peeking out from under her hat bouncing with each movement. “I’m so excited I could burst! Santa must be really busy, though, delivering all these gifts early. Don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” Andrew replied with mock seriousness. “He probably needs extra fast reindeer this year to keep up.”
The little girl laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that warmed Andrew to his core. The snowflakes swirled around them, settling on her scarf and catching in her hair like tiny stars. For a moment, the world seemed lighter, brighter, and filled with an innocent joy that Andrew hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I’d better go now,” the girl said suddenly, glancing back down the street. “But Merry Christmas!” She waved enthusiastically, already skipping away.
“Merry Christmas!” Andrew called after her, his voice carrying through the snowy air. He watched as she disappeared around the corner, her boots leaving playful tracks in the fresh snow.
As he stood there, a genuine smile spread across his face. The encounter left him feeling unexpectedly uplifted. There was something so simple, so pure about the little girl’s happiness. It had broken through the fog in his mind like sunshine piercing through clouds.
Andrew looked up at the falling snow, letting the flakes land on his face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt truly glad. It wasn’t just the snow or the season; it was the reminder that joy could be found in the smallest, simplest moments—a child’s excitement, a shared laugh, or the gentle magic of Christmas on its way.
The rest of the walk felt lighter, the snow brighter, the world softer and kinder. The little girl’s innocent delight stayed with him, like a gift of its own, long after she’d skipped away.
Andrew lingered for a moment after the girl had skipped away, watching the snowflakes swirl gently in the air. Her laughter and innocent joy stayed with him, filling the cold, quiet street with an echo of warmth. It wasn’t his life—not the life he knew, not the one he had been grappling with—but it was pleasant all the same. After all the turmoil and confusion swirling within him, this moment felt like a reprieve, a pocket of light in a world that often seemed too heavy.
He stood there, breathing in the crisp air, letting the peace of the moment settle into him. The oddity of it all lingered at the edges of his thoughts, but he chose to let it be for now. The warmth of the girl’s exuberance was enough to anchor him, to let him feel present in a way he hadn’t in what felt like ages.
Andrew frowned slightly, tilting his head as if searching for a memory. But nothing came. He didn’t remember living this moment in the past—didn’t remember ever crossing paths with the lively little girl or standing on this snowy street under a sky that now seemed a little brighter. It was unfamiliar yet comforting, a fleeting gift that felt like it belonged somewhere outside of time.
He tucked his hands into his coat pockets and began walking again, the snow crunching softly underfoot. The world around him seemed gentler, as though the encounter had smoothed its edges. For now, Andrew decided, he didn’t need to understand. It was enough to simply feel, to let this small, unexpected happiness carry him forward, if only for a little while.
Suddenly, warmth embraced Andrew, melting away the chill of the snow and the crisp bite of the winter air. The sensation was so abrupt and all-encompassing that he staggered slightly, glancing around in confusion. He wasn’t standing on the snowy street anymore. The ground beneath him was smooth and polished, the faint smell of chalk and cleaning supplies drifting to his nose.
He wasn’t wearing his scarf, nor his coat. Instead, he found himself in a school building he recognized by its function, though not its specifics. The walls were lined with bright, cheerful artwork, and the faint buzz of children’s voices filled the air. It wasn’t a place he remembered ever being in, yet it felt alive, purposeful, and strangely welcoming.
Before he could gather his bearings, a swarm of children ran up to him, their faces alight with joy and curiosity. They were about the same age as the little girl he’d just spoken to—around eight, maybe younger. They crowded around him with laughter and bright voices, greeting him with enthusiasm and familiarity that startled him.
“Mister Andrew!” one called, tugging at his sleeve.
“Come on, let’s go!” said another, her pigtails bouncing as she gestured for him to follow.
Andrew felt a swell of sympathy and affection for them, as though their pure energy and innocence reached deep into a part of him he hadn’t realized was still tender. Without hesitation, he crouched down, opening his arms, and they piled into his embrace with squeals and giggles. For a moment, everything else faded away—the strange circumstances, the nagging questions about where he was or why. All that mattered was the joy surrounding him.
“All right, all right,” he said, his voice warm and playful. “Let’s go, then. Show me where we’re heading!”
With Andrew at their center, the children led him to one of the classrooms on the first floor, their laughter and chatter filling the hall. Inside, sunlight streamed through wide windows, casting golden patches on the rows of small desks.
“So, kids, take your seats, please,” Andrew said with an ease that surprised even him. He gestured toward the desks, and the children hurried to their places, still giggling and whispering to each other.
As Andrew glanced around the room, one particular girl caught his eye. She was sitting at the second desk in the second row, her green eyes as bright as emeralds and her blond curls framing her face like a halo. Her presence stood out, not just for her beauty, but for something more—something familiar.
Andrew stared at her, a feeling stirring deep within him. He didn’t know this girl. He was certain he had never seen her before. And yet, she reminded him of someone—someone he knew so well, someone who had once lit up his world with boundless energy and light.
She looked up and met his gaze, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity and mischief. She grinned at him, and for a moment, Andrew was struck by the resemblance.
“Who are you?” he murmured, almost to himself.
The girl tilted her head, her smile never faltering, as though she was silently answering a question he hadn’t yet asked. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Andrew felt a lump form in his throat. Her presence tugged at something inside him, a memory or a longing just out of reach.
Though his mind raced with questions, his heart filled with a quiet warmth. Whoever she was, she brought a brightness that felt achingly familiar—a reminder of someone he’d loved and lost, yet who remained a part of him. In that moment, surrounded by the lively chatter of children and the soft golden light of the classroom, Andrew felt an odd sense of peace, as though he’d stumbled upon something he hadn’t even known he was searching for.
Andrew’s attention shifted to the classroom around him. The space, though familiar in function, was unlike anything he had experienced in his school days. The centerpiece was a massive screen dominating the front wall, flanked by a holographic display hovering in the air before it. The hologram shifted fluidly, showing vibrant, interactive visuals that seemed almost alive.
It was light-years ahead of the chalky blackboards and squeaky markers he had known. Back in his school days, the pinnacle of technology had been typing up research papers on Google. Later, Google gave way to ChatGPT, a tool that revolutionized how students accessed information. For Andrew, that had felt like the height of progress.
Here, however, the technological sophistication was almost overwhelming. Even the desks and chairs were a marvel. The children sat in three neatly arranged rows, as in the schools of Andrew’s time, but the resemblance ended there. The chairs were ergonomically designed to support the natural curve of the children’s backs, ensuring comfort for hours. The desks were sleek and modern, their grey surfaces adjustable to suit the height of each individual child.
Andrew watched as one boy leaned back in his chair and tapped a control on the desk’s side. With a soft hum, the desk adjusted to match his comfort level. It was seamless, intuitive—a far cry from the rigid, wooden desks Andrew had known, where sitting through a long class was an exercise in endurance.
Despite the futuristic upgrades, the classroom retained a sense of warmth and brightness that reminded Andrew of his own school days. Sunlight streamed in through large windows, and the laughter and chatter of the children filled the space with life.
Andrew took a deep breath, taking it all in. The environment was an extraordinary blend of tradition and innovation—a classroom designed for learning, but also for nurturing creativity and comfort. For a moment, he felt a pang of envy for the kids who got to grow up in such an environment, but it was quickly replaced by admiration.
Andrew stood at the front of the room, feeling an odd sense of assurance as he began the Italian class for the eager children. Without fully understanding how he knew the language, he greeted them fluently in Italian.
“Buongiorno, miei piccoli amici!” he said warmly, his voice carrying a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.
The children, in unison, replied, “Buongiorno, signore!” Their cheerful voices echoed in the bright, futuristic classroom.
Andrew moved seamlessly into the lesson. Despite his initial surprise at being in this role, he felt no hesitation as he guided the children through an engaging session about the Italian language. They started with simple words—animals, colors, and parts of nature. The children repeated after him with enthusiasm, their pronunciation improving with each try.
Andrew leaned forward, his enthusiasm spilling into his voice as he began the lesson on animals.
“Allora, ragazzi,” he said with a grin, “cominciamo con gli animali. Sapete come si dice ‘dog’ in italiano?”
A small boy with freckles raised his hand eagerly. “È ‘cane,’ giusto?”
“Bravo!” Andrew replied, nodding. “E il plurale? Come si dice ‘dogs’?”
Another student chimed in, “Cani!”
“Esattamente! Bene fatto!” Andrew encouraged them with a bright smile. “E adesso, ‘cat’? Come si dice?”
“Gatto!” the children answered in unison.
Andrew chuckled. “Perfetto! E il plurale?”
“Gatti!” they chorused, their enthusiasm filling the room.
Using the holographic display, he projected lifelike images of various animals. A lion appeared, its mane flowing majestically.
“Questo è un leone,” Andrew explained, pointing to the projection. “In latino, si dice *leo.*”
The children murmured in awe, repeating the Latin word. Andrew smiled, pleased with their interest.
He transitioned smoothly to birds. “E come si dice ‘bird’ in italiano?” he asked.
“Uccello,” a girl in the front row replied confidently.
“Molto bene! E sapete come si dice ‘eagle’?” Andrew quizzed further, pulling up an image of a soaring eagle.
“È ‘aquila,’ vero?” a boy said, slightly unsure.
“Esatto! E in latino, è lo stesso: aquila. Vedete come l’italiano e il latino sono collegati?”
The kids nodded, their eyes lighting up with realization.
Andrew moved on to Roman history, his voice deepening with gravity. He projected a bustling Roman forum onto the holographic screen, complete with senators in togas and merchants at their stalls.
“Questo è il Foro Romano,” he said, gesturing to the display. “Sapete cos’è?”
“It’s a market?” one student ventured, blending English with Italian.
“Esatto, ma è molto di più. Era il cuore della vita romana: politica, commercio, e anche religione. Qui, le decisioni più importanti erano prese. Qui, i Romani dicevano: *Senatus Populusque Romanus*—‘The Senate and the People of Rome.’”
The children repeated the Latin phrase with care: “*Senatus Populusque Romanus.*”
Andrew smiled warmly. “Bravissimi! Sapete, i Romani credevano che la loro città fosse speciale, destinata a dominare il mondo. E per mille anni, hanno quasi raggiunto questo sogno. La loro lingua, il latino, è diventata la base di tante lingue moderne, come l’italiano, il francese, lo spagnolo…”
He paused, letting the words sink in, then switched back to Italian. “Parliamo di un grande imperatore. Chi conosce Giulio Cesare?”
A girl with curly hair raised her hand. “Era un generale romano, no?”
“Sì, bravissima,” Andrew said, projecting an image of Caesar addressing his troops. “Ma era anche un politico brillante. Sapete cosa disse attraversando il Rubicone?”
The class looked puzzled, so Andrew answered for them: “Disse Alea iacta est—‘The die is cast.’ Conoscete questa frase?”
The children repeated, “*Alea iacta est!*”
Andrew explained further, his tone animated. “Era un momento di grande decisione. Attraversando il Rubicone, Cesare dichiarò guerra al Senato. Era un rischio enorme, ma lui era coraggioso. E poi, beh… il resto è storia.”
They moved on to Italian traditions. “Parliamo della cucina italiana,” Andrew said, shifting the focus. “Sapete qual è il piatto più famoso in Italia?”
“Pizza!” the children shouted excitedly.
“Bravi!” Andrew laughed. “Ma non dimentichiamo la pasta. In Italia, ogni regione ha la sua specialità. A Napoli, c’è la pizza Margherita. In Emilia-Romagna, c’è il ragù alla bolognese. Avete mai assaggiato qualcosa del genere?”
Hands shot up as the children enthusiastically recounted their favorite Italian dishes, from lasagna to gelato. Andrew beamed at their engagement, feeding off their energy.
By the end of the class, Andrew felt a deep connection with these children. Their laughter and curiosity had transformed the lesson into a vibrant exchange of knowledge and joy.
“Grazie, ragazzi,” he said, his voice warm with gratitude. “Oggi mi avete reso molto felice. Continuate a esplorare, a imparare, e a divertirvi. Arrivederci!”
“Arrivederci, signore!” they replied, their voices ringing with genuine affection.
As the children left, Andrew stood alone in the bright, futuristic classroom, feeling a profound sense of fulfillment. This moment, though fleeting, was one he would cherish. It wasn’t his life, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
