

Each morning at the shining gate, Sister Rita smiles and waits. The creak sings a sweet hello, as children rush in, faces aglow.

The hallways gleam with prideful light, guiding footsteps, pure and bright. Sister Rita whispers, "Learn today," while magic quietly shows the way.

Books light up with a golden hue, when a child is ready for something new. "Open me," pages seem to say, "Let’s read and dream today!"

Chalk writes pictures on the walls, drawing rainbows, castles, and bouncing balls. Sister Rita claps in delight, as desks arrange themselves just right.

A silver bell sings with cheerful chime, calling gently to learning time. "Hear the magic," Sister Rita grins, and with soft laughter, class begins.

Swings on the playground dance on air, moving to tunes only children hear. Sister Rita waves from the garden seat, sharing laughter, light, and treats.

Flowerbeds twinkle with every season, blooming patterns without reason. "Look!" Sister Rita points with glee, "Flowers write your names for me!"

The wind shares stories soft and low, whispering secrets as children grow. Sister Rita’s voice joins in song, "In our school, you all belong."

Erasers hop and pencils run, completing lessons, making work fun. Sister Rita says with caring pride, "Magic’s real with love inside."

In the garden, dreams take root; children’s wishes blossom and shoot. Sister Rita prays the gentle way, "May all your hopes find light today."

As the sun sets, the school sighs, golden clouds reflect the children’s goodbyes. Sister Rita stands in the glow, "Your dreams will always grow."

At night, magic whispers all around, Sister Rita’s kindness the softest sound. Her spirit safe within each wall, she guards and loves them all.