Favorite Part of Your Job?

(This is all written from an OC question in a Discord server I'm in OC Interview Question! What is your character's favorite part of their job or their everyday life? This was the question) Hymn pauses at the question, before continuing her search for her personal satchel. "Hm... the best part of my job? Well... I know many would expect me to say that its proving I'm not like my species. But in all honesty? Its helping to steer the young ones onto a better path. Better then where their heading. I've... I've seen where a lot of them end up and what's happened to them. And I've never gotten rid of the thoughts of, 'What could I have done better? What could I have said to convince them this wasnt the way? What could I...' " she stops herself short, touching the small stand beside the bed in her personal room. On the stand are dozens of picture frames, and pictures by themselves. Some are old enough that they're not pictures, but small paintings. She smiled softly at one particular painting, which featured a light lilac pegasus mare, with a teal colored mane and calming amethyst eyes standing beside her, with a small thestral foal between them standing as if she was in a guard recruitment poster. The foal was oak colored, with splotches of white splattered across her coat like a paint bucket had been spilt on her. Her mane was a mahogany color and her eyes were piercing violet orbs. The Hymn in the picture seemed much younger, more... carefree... and... dare one say, happier? Looking to the siren that's standing in front of them, the interviewer saw the guilt, grief and sadness that seemed to weigh the mare down, seeming to make gravity's pull all that stronger. If looking closely, they could see teardrops pricking the corner of her eyes, and a grimacing snarl starting to pull at the edge of her lips. Before she could be observed more, she seemed to pull out of the memories that had taken her, rubbing at her eyes with the back of a hoof. "I'm sorry. Uh... I need to go... I just remembered one of the recruits wanted my help later today." And with that, the previously always seemingly chipper, ready to help, motherly siren trod her way out of her room. A gloom hung in the air after she left, the interviewer left standing there and watching. Watching sadly. The interviewer looked back to the pictures that had held Hymn's attention previously, before stepping closer to examine them closer, never touching. Just looking.