This morning before class and while still in my p.j.'s, I grabbed a cab and rode up to the campus, where I collected packages that had arrived for me, loaded them into the cab, and rode back to my apartment. One package was from yours truly, a box full of western food goods I had shipped to myself while I was in Beijing. The other was from my family. Once back in my apartment, I ripped open the package from home. I had been expecting the package as it was things I had asked for or ordered, a calendar (Mom picked out John Wayne - there's nothing like having a man in the house again), a pair of jeans, and garbage bags to start sending stuff home. This package, a delivery I had been expecting, ended up being the best package I'd ever received from home. Not only had Mom included some Valentine chocolates, but she sent homemade cookies (a first), and three cards, one from Mom and two from Grandma Meyer, all containing letters inside. The cards were instantly priceless. Wanting to savor the letters, I placed them on my kitchen table, poured myself a bowl of my favorite cereal, Oh's, and sat down.
I read the letters as I ate, falling in love with the handwriting before me, connecting me to them in a way that phone calls and e-mails will never be able to do. I smiled and my heart warmed as the sweet sound of crunching filled my ears. It could not have been a more perfect way to start off my last semester of teaching in China.
An hour later, I was practically skipping to class. I ran into Nick, my sitemate, just as I approached Teaching Building One, my face, I could feel, was totally aglow. "I can't wait to see the students!" I exclaimed through ever smiling lips. Suddenly I really missed them, as if I had just realized that we had been parted for months.
Each time I saw one of my students or classes for the first time since the break, I felt like I might burst with excitement and joy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment