No one ever told me how much I would miss Washington. I grew up in the same town for all of my life, and never really branched out. When coming to Rexburg, Idaho, I was thankful for the many things I took for granted. Like: rain, big beautiful green trees, knowing your neighbors, and especially- living at home. Now don't get me wrong, there are several positive aspects to living on my own. But the little things about being home is what I miss the most. Having a homemade dinner cooked FOR you, groceries magically appearing without you having to go get them yourself, your laundry being perfectly folded, and especially having your parents right downstairs.
My parents are two of the most amazing and understanding people I have ever met. My mother taught me how to love myself, how to look at the positives aspects in life even though sometimes it doesn't seem very happy, and especially, how to have patience that everything will work out (even though I must admit that I still need to learn more about patience). And then, my father. Papa as I like to call him. My father is the hardest working man I have in my life. I had the wonderful chance to work with him, and it taught me that his job isn't easy, but he still does it to support his family. He taught me how working hard makes you appreciate everything you have a little more, how to trust my decisions, and especially how to be strong in the whirlwinds.
Being at college, for me, is a blessing. I was not the greatest high school student and graduating was not something that was easily reachable for me. I can't relate when people say that they loved high school, because I (with lack of any better words) hated school. But as soon as I said 'Au revoir' to Mark Morris High School, I realized that the challenges that I had faced during my young teenage years had molded me into a strong and beautiful person. Although I still have challenges, I know that I can pick myself up, tie my hair back and say 'bring it on'.
College has been a teaching lesson (and I'm not even done yet!). Being in a small town that snows more than I want it to, I have found that even if the weather is sometimes gross I can still have fun. When you sit down with someone and talk about roommates, one could tell you that they had a great experience and have made eternal friends. Others, well, lessons were learned. I have made some great friends, and have learned valuable lessons. Although I do struggle sometimes to make friends here in Rexburg, I still am extremely grateful. Winter 2018 has just started and I am already loving the roommates that I have been placed with. Past roommates, if you are reading this, I love you!
Going to a college that I truly love is great. The campus is beautiful and you will always pass a smiling face (even if its early in the morning). I have had some professors that have taught me things that I will never forget. Last semester, I gained a new love for an author by the name of Robert Frost. We had the assignment of memorizing one of his poems, which at first I was completely terrified. Reciting a poem in front of a class? No thank you. But after I recited and sat down at my desk, I was proud of myself. Besides, bragging points should be rewarded to anyone that can recite a poem. The professor explained that when we love a subject and make an effort, like remembering a short passage or poem, it gives us a deeper understanding of the work and opens our minds to possibilities of learning. The one I chose to recite is 'A Girl's Garden':
A neighbor of mine in the village
Likes to tell how one spring
When she was a girl on the farm, she did
A childlike thing.
One day she asked her father
To give her a garden plot
To plant and tend and reap herself,
And he said, "Why not?"
In casting about for a corner
He thought of an idle bit
Of walled-off ground where a shop had stood,
And he said, "Just it."
And he said, "That ought to make you
An ideal one-girl farm,
And give you a chance to put some strength
On your slim-jim arm."
It was not enough of a garden
Her father said, to plow;
So she had to work it all by hand,
But she don't mind now.
She wheeled the dung in a wheelbarrow
Along a stretch of road;
But she always ran away and left
Her not-nice load,
And hid from anyone passing.
And then she begged the seed.
She says she thinks she planted one
Of all things but weed.
A hill each of potatoes,
Radishes, lettuce, peas,
Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, corn,
And even fruit trees.
And yes, she has long mistrusted
That a cider-apple
In bearing there today is hers,
Or at least may be.
Her crop was a miscellany
When all was said and done,
A little bit of everything,
A great deal of none.
Now when she sees in the village
How village things go,
Just when it seems to come in right,
She says, "I know!
"It's as when I was a farmer..." Oh never by way of advice! And she never sins by telling the tale To the same person twice.
(http://www.online-literature.com/frost/985/)
Growing up, I always dreamed of what I would be when I'm older. First I wanted to be a nurse, then in the summer of 2013 I began to write. Everyday, I would sit at the computer and type away. Although I can testify that writers block IS a real thing (and horrible to say the least), I have gained a passion and talent that I will forever cherish. As the years passed, I have written a whole book series, poems, a play that has been published and performed, and finally this blog. So naturally, I chose English as my major. I do not regret it!
Until next time.
~A
