I read the message only to discover that she had received a piece of my mail. It had been addressed to 'Gina Marie,' which is her name as well as mine. The mail had my old address on it (Carmel Hall, where we both lived last year, and where she still lives this year), and was therefore sent to her. Thankfully, she put the pieces together and contacted me, the true recipient. So, at 11 PM last night, pajama clad and feeling cranky, I ventured back to Carmel to retrieve my mail.
While I went with a frown, I returned with a smile. What I thought would be a ten second exchange resulted in an hour and a half conversation about the future, about life, about school, about lots of things. I came back to my dorm feeling good about life. And then I read the letter.
All of my bad feelings, my doubts, my uncertainties, were gone. Just like that. When someone you truly care about has faith in you, it's hard not to have faith in yourself. It's absolutely indescribable the weight of being trusted, of being a source of strength for others. I hope to always be there, to act as a pillar for the people that reside in my heart.
So, in conclusion, I would like to convey what I discovered through last night's adventure: Blessings don't always come in traditional, expected ways. They don't arrive on time. They don't show up in the places you expect. They don't always come to you first. But don't lose hope. Because even if they come late, even if they show up a mile down the road, even if they come to your neighbors first, they will eventually end up on your desk, with your name written across them by a familiar hand.
And that is why I smile. All because of misdirected mail.
No comments:
Post a Comment