I stepped out of my dorm building, my winter jacket open, as the weather said it would be in the forties today, and black sneakers on my feet to celebrate the warmth after four consecutive days of my nose freezing as soon as the air from outside hit it. My choice of footwear quickly turned into a regret as I stepped into a puddle as my first step onto the pavement. I glanced ahead at the path I had to take to get to the dining hall, a massive puddle blocking my way. The choice to go upstairs and change was not really tempting; at eight am I had no desire to walk up the four flights of stairs I just bounded down, and with only one class, I figured I could get through it.
The puddle was outline with a mixture of slush and snow and ice, a very typical combination for the walkways around campus. That crust of ice was clearly my only way to get across to the other side without soaking my sneakers. I tiptoed onto it, carefully placing my feet to on sturdy looking parts to not slip. Glancing around, I thankfully saw that know one was there to see me encounter this goofy looking obstacle course.
Though I made it without slipping to dining hall that breakfast, the rest of the day continued with a monotone grey filling the sky for the fifth day in a row. Getting out of the class was another elongated process filled with the question of why I chose sneakers. I trudged back to my door and laid down in my bed momentarily before finding the strength to make a fresh coffee. In hopes of bringing some color into my life, I chose my pristine white mug with a floral ‘J’ on it and a gold colored handle. Though my favorite mug, unfortunately also had the worst memories attached to it as my ex gave it to me. But I use it all the time, figuring if college life gets the best of me (a reasonable and quite relevant thought at the moment) and for whatever reason it breaks, well it was just another gift from my ex that I wouldn’t have to feel unsettled about having. The steam the mug wafted the smell of French Vanilla coffee into my nose. I packed my backpack with the Bible and the third edition of “The Christian Theological Tradition” (the essential books for my Christianity history class) and headed out the door, this time in Bean Boots and a hot mug of coffee in hand. I stepped out of the dorm and once looked out at the pouring rain from the steps. Against the grey of my campus, the cleanness of the mug stood out. There was a burst of happiness in seeing the little object of such appreciation against the dreariness of the day. It brought a sliver of sunshine to my day. The mug, with its tiny flowers and gold trim was a small saving grace, a tiny reminder that spring was indeed real and the campus wouldn’t always be filled with only one color. The thought pushed me forward with the tiniest amount of motivation to take the first few steps out from under the covered landing of my dorm. I quickly came to the first puddle of many on my walk, but this time, I splashed right through in my boots, enjoying the satisfaction of walking through water without getting wet.
Sending my wishes of warmth,
J
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