I have so many good things in my life that I couldn't name them all if I tried. The stereotypical things that fill in the blank "I am thankful for..." are the big things. I love and appreciated the big things. The little things though are what get stuck in my head and make me smile at the end of the day; they are the things that keep me going through the difficult and uncertain times.
For the semester, I am a student aid (like a student teacher, but less work and teaching) at Grand Rapids Christian High School. Let's just say even though I have to get up at 6 a.m. every morning to be there, it is absolutely worth it. I've grown to love a community and a student body. Every day after I drive back to Calvin, I have a 5-10 minute walk from my car to my next class, so I have time to think about all the little things I enjoyed that day. And it's not usually things like "My class behaved so well!" or "Every student got to have input for this topic!" or even "The students had fun today and learned something!" Those are all good things, but I remember the little things. When one student was so thankful for my help that he gave me an AppleJack for every question I helped him with. When I made the mistake of telling my students that my last day was in a couple of weeks and they were all so sad. When I ask if anyone has any questions and my freshmen ask how my day is going. When a few of my juniors decide to roll their desks outside and look in the window to class while we were working on some practice problems (this made me laugh far too much). Every day when my cooperating teacher proves she is the coolest. I could definitely keep going, but some of my little joys come from things other than aiding as well:
On orchestra tour when I got to give a little 5 minute talk to some high school classes about what I love about Calvin--and after the fact when my friends told me I was really funny, or sounded really cute while talking, or that it was cool when they could see me transform from cellist Heather to teacher Heather in a high school setting. If you haven't gathered this by now, I think high schoolers are the best :)
Sometimes it's the odd little things-- a funny face my stand-partner makes at me while attempting to not die when sight-reading in rehearsal, or bad puns my friends insist on making (they can never resist...). Getting donuts in chem seminar and making snarky comments (snark also pleases me much more than it should). Wearing a pair of chopsticks--that were given to me by a friend who actually got them in Hong Kong!--in my hair and feeling good about how it looks. Watching an episode of Bones and feeling like I've been reunited with old friends. Actually being reunited with old friends. Hugs. The Lark Ascending. Really good salads. Remembering that my cousin named her cat Salad when she was little. Looking at old pictures. Shostakovich Beyoncé. Many other little things amuse me and bring me joy, but there was a laundry list of ones I've thought about recently.
Simultaneously, while I reflect on the little things, I remember Robert Frost's poem Nothing Gold Can Stay. It goes like this:
Simultaneously, while I reflect on the little things, I remember Robert Frost's poem Nothing Gold Can Stay. It goes like this:
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower,
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
On the surface, it's a very Melancholy poem, however it has acted as a sort of comfort to me as well. It's really hard to grapple with the fact that this amazing time at Calvin won't last forever, nor should it. I wouldn't want to live under this much stress for the rest of time. But my heart aches every time I realize that once I graduate, I won't be part of this community to the extent that I am now. Nothing gold can stay. My friends will be spread out all around the world doing what they were placed on this earth to do. I'm thankful for the influence of social media in that regard, but a Facebook message can not replace a real face-to-face conversation or chat over a meal. Such is the human condition I suppose. This poem, my own personal memento mori, forces me to enjoy all the little things now. I guess I live in some weird kind of limbo between these two. But that's what keeps life interesting. Love the little things and appreciate them while they last.