New Exchange Student Arrives at School, Teacher Leaves the Classroom in Tears upon Seeing Her — Story of the Day

Carla sat at her desk, staring out the window, enjoying that rare moment when the classroom was completely silent. When you work with children, it doesn’t matter if they are six or sixteen; silence is a privilege, not a routine.

But Carla loved her job. She loved children and regretted that she couldn’t have her own—not anymore. A few minutes later, the children started gathering in the classroom, and the silence vanished instantly.

The room filled with chatter and laughter, the kind of noise that could be overwhelming but also heartwarming. Carla smiled at the familiar sounds and turned her attention to the materials she had prepared for the lesson.

She remembered that a new exchange student was joining them today. New students always brought stress, both for the children and the teachers.

She wondered what the new student would be like and hoped the other students would be welcoming.

The bell rang, and the children took their seats, their conversations gradually subsiding as they noticed Carla standing at the front of the room.

“Good morning, everyone,” Carla began, her voice steady and warm. “Let’s get started. Today, we’re going to talk about—”

Just then, the classroom door opened, and the school principal walked in with the new girl. The girl didn’t look lost; she looked annoyed.

She had dark hair tied back in a ponytail and carried herself with a confidence that seemed out of place for someone in a new environment. Carla looked at her, feeling as if she had seen her before, although she knew it was impossible.

“Class, this is Liliana,” the principal said, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “She’s joining us from Spain. I hope you’ll all make her feel welcome.”

The principal left the classroom, leaving Liliana standing at the front, looking around with a mixture of boredom and irritation. She hurried to take her seat, but Carla stopped her.

“Liliana, why don’t you tell us a few things about yourself?” She said, trying to sound friendly and welcoming.

Liliana turned to face the class. Her expression showed she wasn’t happy about it. “My name is Liliana, but I go by Lily. I came from Spain. My parents adopted me when I was a baby. Now they’ve sent me here for six months to stay with my aunt to learn more about my heritage,” she said, her voice flat and uninterested.

Carla nodded, encouraging her to continue. “That sounds interesting, Lily. Is there anything else you’d like to share with us?”

Lily sighed and shrugged. “I’ve been swimming since I was a kid. I like it,” she added, looking as though she wanted the conversation to end.

Carla smiled warmly. “That’s great! We have a swimming team at our school. You could join it if you like.”

“Yeah,” Lily muttered and started walking toward an empty seat in the middle of the room.

As she was about to sit down, something caught Carla’s eye. It was a birthmark on Lily’s neck, shaped like a crescent moon. Carla’s heart skipped a beat. This can’t be… she thought, feeling a wave of emotions she couldn’t control.

“Lily, excuse me for asking,” Carla said, her voice trembling slightly. “Have you had that birthmark for long?”

Lily looked puzzled but nodded. “Um… yeah. Since birth, I guess?” she replied.

Carla put her hand to her mouth, feeling utterly shocked. How is this possible? There are no such coincidences in the world. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and knew she had to get out of there. Without another word, she hurried out of the classroom, leaving the students in a confused silence.

As soon as the classroom door closed behind her, she started crying. She couldn’t control the sobs that shook her body. She needed to be alone, away from prying eyes and curious whispers. Carla ran down the hallway and burst into the restroom. She locked herself in a stall, tears streaming down her face.

Leaning against the cold wall, Carla let herself cry. The emotions she had buried for years came rushing back, overwhelming her.

14 years earlier…

Carla lay in the hospital bed, holding her newborn daughter. She had never felt so happy in her life. The baby slept peacefully in her arms, tiny hands curled into fists.

Carla looked at her baby, unable to take her eyes off her. The baby’s soft skin, delicate features, and the small rise and fall of her chest as she breathed were mesmerizing.

Her little girl had a large birthmark on her neck that resembled a crescent moon. Carla gently traced it with her finger, feeling a deep connection to her daughter.

“You’re my special girl,” Carla said, stroking the baby’s cheek. “We’ll be just fine.”

Suddenly, the door to the ward opened, and Carla’s mother, Rose, walked in, her expression stern.

“How are you feeling?” Rose asked, her voice lacking warmth.

“Good. Look how beautiful she is,” Carla replied, lifting the baby for Rose to see better, her eyes shining with pride.

Rose took the baby from Carla’s arms. “Don’t get too attached; it will only make it harder for you,” she said bluntly.

Carla’s eyes widened in shock. “What? Not get attached to my own daughter?”

“She’s not your daughter,” Rose said coldly, her eyes hard.

“What do you mean, she’s not my daughter? I just gave birth to her,” Carla said, her voice trembling.

“Did you really think I’d let you keep this child?” Rose snapped.

“Mom? What are you talking about? Give her back to me,” Carla said, frightened, reaching out her hands desperately.

“You’re 16, Carla! I won’t let you ruin your life because of a teenage mistake!” Rose’s voice was harsh and unyielding.

“I want to raise this child. Mom, give me my baby,” Carla started to cry, her heart breaking.

“I’ve already found a good family for her, Europeans, both financiers. They can take care of her; you can’t,” Rose said, her tone final.

“Give me my baby!” Carla sobbed hysterically, her voice filled with desperation.

But Rose didn’t listen. She walked out of the ward with Carla’s baby, ignoring her daughter’s pleas. Carla was left in the bed, hysterical, choking on her tears.

She repeated over and over, “Give me my baby, give me my baby,” her voice breaking with sorrow. Her world had just shattered, and she felt an emptiness that nothing could ever fill.

That was the last time Carla saw her daughter until she appeared in front of her class. Her mother never told her the names of the people she had given the girl to. Carla searched for years, but with no information, she found nothing.

When Carla got married, she and her husband tried to have children. After many attempts, doctors told her she could no longer have children.

The news broke her heart again, and it led to the end of her marriage. She felt empty, as if she had lost everything.

Now, standing in front of the mirror in the teachers’ restroom, Carla tried to fix her makeup, ruined by tears. Her hands shook as she applied foundation, trying to cover the red blotches on her face.

She prayed none of the other teachers would come in and see her like this. She didn’t know how she could return to the classroom and continue the lesson. How could she look at Lily, knowing she was her daughter? The thought was overwhelming.

Suddenly, Carla heard the bell ring and sighed with relief. The class was over, and she didn’t have to go back just yet. She took a moment to breathe, steadied herself, and stepped out into the corridor. She knew what she needed to do and planned to do it as soon as possible.

Carla walked purposefully towards her classroom, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions. As she turned the corner, she suddenly encountered Lily standing in the hallway.

“Can I ask you a question?” Lily asked, her eyes curious.

“Y-yes, of course,” Carla replied, her voice trembling slightly. She hoped Lily wouldn’t ask why she had run out of the classroom in tears.

“You mentioned there are swimming lessons here. How can I join them?” Lily asked, her tone casual.

“Oh, you need to talk to Coach Smith. His office is down the corridor, on the left,” Carla replied, pointing in the direction.

“Okay, thanks,” Lily said with a small smile. She turned and walked towards the coach’s office.

Carla watched her go, feeling deep sadness. She wanted to say more, to connect with her, but she knew she had to be careful. She stood there for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts before heading back to her classroom.

Carla returned to her desk and found the sheet with Lily’s information that the principal had given her. Her heart raced as she scanned the details, her eyes locking onto the email addresses of Lily’s parents. Taking a deep breath, Carla sat down and opened her laptop. She started typing an email, her fingers trembling.

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Henderson,” she began, her mind swirling with emotions. “My name is Carla, and I am Lily’s teacher. I need to share something very important with you. Fourteen years ago, I gave birth to a baby girl who was taken from me. I believe that baby is Lily. The birthmark on her neck confirms this. I am asking for your permission to tell Lily the truth.“

She paused, reading over her words. They felt heavy and raw. After a moment, she hit send. The email was out of her hands now.

The entire day, Carla couldn’t focus on her work. She checked her email constantly, hoping for a response from Lily’s parents. Each time she refreshed her inbox and saw no new messages, her heart sank a little more. The waiting was unbearable.

As the school day ended and the children left, Carla remained at her desk, staring at the computer screen. She felt hope and fear, unsure of what the future would hold. All she wanted was a chance to know her daughter, to make up for lost time.

That evening, Carla sat down at her laptop again, her heart heavy with anxiety. She opened her email and saw a new message from Lily’s parents. With trembling hands, she clicked on it and began to read.

“Dear Carla, we understand your situation, but you have no right to tell Lily about this. We forbid you from doing so. If you do, we will transfer Lily to another school.”

Carla stared at the screen, feeling a crushing weight in her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes and began streaming down her face. She felt like her heart was breaking all over again.

The pain was so intense that she could hardly breathe. She closed the laptop and buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

“How could this happen?” Carla cried, her voice choked with emotion. “Why did my mother do this to me?”

She cursed her mother for taking her baby away and for all the years of pain that followed. She felt a deep sense of injustice and loss. The reality of never being able to tell Lily the truth was unbearable.

Carla cried for what seemed like hours, her tears soaking into her sleeves. She felt alone and helpless, unsure of what to do next. All she wanted was a chance to know her daughter, but that hope was now slipping away. The thought of losing Lily again was too much to bear.

The next day, after Carla finished the lesson in Lily’s class, Lily approached her with a book in hand.

“I read the book from your list. Would you like to discuss it?” Lily asked, her eyes bright with interest.

Carla looked at her and smiled. “Yes, I’d love to discuss it,” she said, her heart warming at the thought.

Lily sat down in a chair next to Carla’s desk. “I really liked the part where the main character learns about friendship. It was so interesting.”

Carla nodded, pleased. “That’s a wonderful part of the book. What did you think about how the character handled the challenges?”

As Lily continued to talk about the book, Carla felt a bittersweet mix of emotions. Even though she could never be Lily’s mother, she realized she could be a positive presence in her life.

She could be her friend and mentor, and through these small moments, she could learn more about the daughter she had lost.

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This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.