I locked the doors, closed the blinds, and hid my heart in fear of the unknown. One mistake, left with dread to see it on your face. But this Sacred place I found comfort in, held me in grace. It’s where my heart longs and my soul cries for. It’s where my mind is sane. Every tear wiped away. Every worry filled with hope. It’s where silence isn’t to be feared, but welcomed.



Deep within us Echos of the past taunt. Some tainted with regrets left unforgiven. Scars that will never diminish. We walk among the living- the actors perfecting the imperfect, desiring acceptance. A delusion created centuries ago parading through years. Memories of pain and suffering lurk, lurching for freedom. But the stigma remains. The shaking locked box determined to be open still remains closed. A shattered world of broken glass aimlessly walked on knowing one day we will stub our toes. The thinnest thread holding us up will one day grow weak and gravity will take hold. Our echos of our past will determine our destiny. Are we destined to lay weeping of guilt, pain, shame of a past that can no longer be changed? Or are we destined for something more? Something to turn that little corner of your frown upside down.

-Autumn Rain


Construct is the word of the day for December 2nd. I’m rather late seeing it’s already 2AM on December 3rd. But you know what they say, “Better late than never!” Who are they by the way? …

Anyways, construct…. When I think of this word, constructive criticism comes to mind. Oh, how I needed that so badly today. Drenched in anxiety. Shaking with ignorance and anger.

I should have been happy. A day off from work due to school’s Christmas program. All dressed up in a royal blue blouse that made me uncomfortable, a lighter shade of blue under it, black pants that apparently shrunk (or did I just get fatter?), and my barely worn pair of boots I purchased three years ago. Makeup didn’t look half bad either. At the place, I realized I forgot to paint my nails, but I just shrugged it off.

What got me so down? My first year and the coworker, I feel like is putting everything on me. She worked their for three years and acted like she had no idea what’s going on. Plus, she wants to complain. She wants to complain about being thirsty and saying she’s so tired and hungry. Well, at least she had a place to sit (thanks to some kids willing to stand).

Before the program, each class had a row to sit. We have 25 kids, yet, only given one row. Two sat on each seat and four had to sit behind with another class. There were no seats in our row for the teachers, which I was told we just have to stand.

So, yeah… I stood… and I blocked a girl behind me from watching the program. So many parents walked back and forth that aisle. They kept bumping me, pushing me, acting like I wasn’t even there. Some said sorry, most did not.

The worst was after the kids performance and they brought all of the kids and teachers on stage for awards ceremony. I was squished like a baloney in between two cheese and pressed together with two pieces of bread.

Okay, that I think is bad description. But I was squished, pushed, and bumped. One almost poked me in the eye backstage (literally!) when she threw a kid’s bag before heading on there during the kid’s performance.

I hate being short. Whoever said being short has its advantages, I believe you are wrong. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!

These weren’t the only things wrong. I felt like everything I did was wrong. Even somehow losing a kid was my fault because after I received an award, I decided to stand on the other side where it was less cramped. Apparently that was wrong because the coworker said I’m supposed to watch the kids.

Umm… okay. Tell me, how when I’m stuffed and can barely breathe thinking I’m gonna fall over any second over there? I watched all the classrooms from the other side. I saw even another class a kid ontop of another kid and one pretending his award was a gun and silently shooting. If these teachers can remain calm and not play the blame game, why can’t she?

Anyways, this site is called Twinkle Admist the Darkness for a reason. Therefore, from this awkward event, I will shed some light.

Each classroom did dance beautifully. All the kids looked stunning in their outfits. One class performed an Indian dance to an Indian Christmas song and I thought it was cool the teachers had the nonindian kids dressed in Salwar Kameez. Another class did Hawaiian dance with Hawaiian Rollercoaster Ride. The toddlers even performed. One toddler class performed, “Santa Claus is coming to town” (I still cannot get that upbeat dance tune out of my head!). Googling the song, I guess the one they played is by Justin Beiber.

Another spark of light shed was hearing I got an award (or at least, barely hearing). I almost missed getting it due to not hearing my name called. And I forgot to tell them they misspelled my name on my pay stubs. So, my award will remind me that. I got an award for Best Assistant Teacher.

My coughing wasn’t bad at all, too. My cough has been lessening these days. On the bus ride back to school, however, due to the cold air from ac, my cough started a bit.

Those are a few shimmery moments to glisten the darkness (the negativity). Although I’m still upset with tonight, I at least have some moments to remember. And they have lessened the intensity of my mood.

Anyways, going back to constructive criticism. I don’t take constructive criticism well. Sometimes, I can’t tell whether it is constructive criticism or just criticism. But what I would criticize myself on for last night would be losing my calmness. I should have not let the teacher get to me or show my sadness when there’s no place to sit and most teachers are all comfortable sitting. I should have focused on the kids more. It was their night, not mine. Anxiety may be a part of me, but I shouldn’t have let it control me. All the frustration that came out, I almost cried (thank God I didn’t!).

This program was not well planned. The teacher wasn’t to blame for that. Even the parents were discouraged because last minute they were told they can’t take their kid after their performance. They had to stay for awards and pictures. Some of the parents still took their kids.

That’s my spiel for criticism. Until next time!

-Autumn Rain