My Dream School

Managers of my dream school, only concerned with sharing their affections, traditionally reserved for their own kids, with orphans.

My dream school’s statute, comprised of only one article, no exception or discretion included in it. “Your only income shall be the peace you earn by serving the disadvantaged.”

My real friends, each of them, playing a role in my Dream School, established in the most disadvantaged neighborhood of the city. One of them, a civil engineer, prepares blueprints. Another friend, again a civil engineer, supervises the construction. A professor prepares the concrete and a businessman lays the brick. Our wives arrange for the lunch. In less than a year, the banner is unfurled.

Interesting is that we wouldn’t pay a penny for workers. More interesting is that we wouldn’t need to flatter investors.

My Dream School (or, Our Dream School, better said) welcomes all the children who face severe problems or miss their fathers. No need for mothers to hide the facts, for example, that the father is imprisoned. The more disadvantaged the kid, the more appreciated he will be.

Teachers of our Dream School devote few hours a week to receive a child’s happy smile, insuring their success, both here and in hereafter. A teacher comes from a public department, another from his office or company, the third from a university and the fourth comes right after participating in the cabinet meeting.

Hoping for a day in which the first bell rings in our Dream School, the sweet childish humming filling our sad, discriminated neighborhood.

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