A Vacation Adventure!

On Wednesday (6/22/16) my mother and I went out to lunch with her brother, my uncle. When we had finished eating the three of us walked around the Swarthmore college campus. On the campus there is an arboretum filled with beautiful flowers:

         

On the campus there was also a giant lawn chair, so my mom and I sat in it:



And I may have also done a split on it....

Unexpected Meetings

[William Pine is a very popular British actor who is returning from Egypt after filming for a new movie.]

As I headed to the airport bright and early I smiled down at my phone. Emily had agreed to go out with me again and I couldn’t wait. When I reached the airport I grabbed my bags, paid the driver, and headed to customs. After checking in I sat by the gate and pulled out my book. There were a lot more people at the gate than I was expecting, and a lot of people make a lot of noise. It was hard for me to focus on my book, so I pulled out my phone and plugged in my earbuds. As music flooded into my mind I blocked out the rest of the world. Glancing up only to check the arrivals and departures board, I became enthralled in the story. At one point my reading was interrupted by the feeling that someone was watching me. I looked up to see a teenage girl sitting in a seat across from me. She was staring at me with a nervous look on her face. Her long black hair was pulled into a braid that fell down her shoulder, in her hand she held a piece of paper and a pen. Her olive skin shone with radiance. I gave her a small smile which she readily returned. I saw a moment of thought flash across her mind before she stood and stepped over to me. Removing my earbuds I smiled up at her.

‘Um, hi,” she said nervously waving at me.

“Hi,” I replied, giving her an encouraging nod.

“I’ve never done this before, but are you William Pine?”

“Yes, I am.”

A smile shot across her face. “Would you mind signing this for me?” She asked holding the paper a little higher.

“I would love to,” I replied taking the paper and pen from her, “what’s your name, darling?”

“Nubia.”

“That’s a lovely name,” I said scrawling a note and my name across the page.

Her face lit up and she reached into her pocket, pulling out a phone. “Would you mind if we took a picture?”

“Of course not, darling,” I said standing and putting my arm around her shoulders.

Standing next to me, Nubia barely came up to my shoulder. She was trying to fit us both into the screen and was having a lot of trouble doing so. I bent my knees and lowered myself down so that our heads were next to each other. When Nubia realised what I was had done she started laughing. She took a couple pictures and then I gave her a hug.

“Thank you so much, William,” Nubia said hugging me tightly.

“You are very welcome, Nubia,” I said hugging her back tightly as well.

“Well, I won’t bother you anymore,” she stated taking a step back, “thank you again.”

I nodded and watched Nubia skip over to her parents and show them the paper and pictures. I thoroughly enjoy interacting with my fans, so being able to talk to Nubia even just for a minute brought a smile to my face. Sitting back down, and replacing my earbuds, I opened my book and started reading again. A little while later it was time to board the plane, so I returned my belongings to my bag and got into line. After handing the flight attendant my ticket I headed to my seat. When I found my seat I put my bag in the overhead compartment and sat down. I watched the other passengers as they found their seats and put their bags away. Three people stopped right behind me and started looking at the seat numbers.

“Looks, like your father and I are here, and you are right there.”

I heard a motherly voice say. Just then someone stepped in front of me to put their bag in the overhead.

“Excuse me, I think I’m sitting next to you.”

I looked up to see Nubia standing there, looking down at her ticket.

“Well hello there again, darling.”

Nubia’s head shot up and her wide eyes met mine. Standing up, I stepped into the aisle so she could get into her seat. She slipped into the chair and looked over at me.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing in coach?”

“Last minute trip, this was the only seat left,” I answered dropping back into my seat.

“Ah, I see.” Nubia turned and faced forward, making herself small.

She was silent while the flight attendants went through the safety protocol. She was silent as she strapped on her seat belt. She was silent as the plane took off down the runway. She was silent as the plane left the tarmac. And she stayed silent for another ten minutes when we were in the air. I could tell by her face that she wanted to talk but she wasn’t sure how to. When the seatbelt light turned off I stood up and rooted through my bag. Dropping back into my seat I handed her a book. It was a hardback collection of Shakespeare’s stories. Nubia looked at the book, then up at me, a confused look on her face.

“You ever heard of Shakespeare?” I asked her.

“Of course I have! Who hasn’t?” She replied turning to face me straight on.

“Have you read any of them?”

Nubia nodded.

“Which is your favorite?”

Her face scrunched up in thought, and her tongue poked out the corner of her mouth. “I think it’s Much Ado About Nothing.”

I raised my eyebrows, “I think that’s my favorite too.”

We talked for a while about Shakespeare and his stories. Nubia pulled her legs up under herself and held her knees with her arm. After a little while I got an email from Matt, my manager.

“Excuse me for a second,” I told Nubia, finding out what Matt had to say.

Nubia reached into her bag and pulled out a notepad and a pencil. She sat with her back against the window, her feet on the seat, with the pad against her knees. Matt’s email was just a review of my interview schedule for my new movie. After reviewing and agreeing to the schedule, I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

Turning back to Nubia, I apologised, “sorry about that, darling.”

“That’s alright, I understand,” she replied, keeping her eyes on her paper the whole time.

A moment passed of me watching her sit silently, staring at her paper. She moved her pencil across the page in purposeful strokes.

“Are you drawing something?” I finally asked.

Nubia just nodded.

“May I see?”

Nubia clutched the notepad to her chest and shook her head wildly.

“Alright, sorry I asked.”

“Well, you can see, just not yet,” she clarified. “It's not done yet.”

I nodded and faced forward, opening my book to read. As I read I could see Nubia glancing up at me out of the corner of my eye. Her eyes would flick up, her hand never ceasing to move. I kept my head down though, not wanting to pry. After about 15 more minutes Nubia held her notepad to herself and shifted forward in her seat.

“Do you promise not to laugh?” She asked suddenly.

I looked up from my book and met her gaze. “”Laugh at what, darling?”

Nubia held out the notepad to me. On the page was one of the most beautiful drawings I've ever seen, and not just because it was of me. The shading was perfect, the angles flawless. Nubia had managed to draw my mess of a hairdo perfectly. The hands looked as if you could reach out and grab them. I was silent, admiring every inch of it.

“You are quiet.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I'm speechless.” I looked at her waiting eyes, “I'm really impressed.”

“You are?”

“Yeah! When you said you were drawing, I expected a drawing, not a photograph.”

Nubia laughed a sweet, innocent laugh. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and blushed.

“Thank you. You can keep it if you'd like.”

“Oh, I couldn't take this from you! This is really good!” I said handing her back the notepad.

“I want you to have it,” she insisted pushing it back to me.

I gave her a wary look, which she confronted with a skeptical one.

“How about this: I'll take a picture of the drawing, and you take the original?” Nubia proposed.

“That sounds good,” I agreed, handing her the notepad.

Nubia took the drawing and pulled out her phone, snapping a photo of it. She then flipped to the back of the notepad, pulling out a page protector sheet. Carefully removing the drawing from the pad she slipped it into the protector and handed it to me.

“Thank you, Nubia,” I said.

“Can I take a picture of you with the drawing?” Nubia asked confidently.

“Of course! That would be fun!” I replied, holding the page near my face and smiling.

Nubia snapped the picture, and then I stood to slide the drawing into my bag. I glanced back at Nubia’s parents. Her father was sleeping, and her mother was holding a book in her hand. I couldn't see the title, but she was looking up at me, so I gave her a friendly smile. She returned the smile and looked back down at her book. I dropped back into my seat and stared at Nubia’s notepad.

“Would you like to see my other drawings?” She asked, noticing my gaze.

“I would love to!”

I flipped gently through exquisite depictions of people and animals, plants and objects. One of my favorites was of a cat sitting on the sill of a window that looked out on a beach.

“From sight or imagination?” I asked pointing to said drawing.

“From sight. That's my cat Iris. That’s my house.”

“Wow, that's impressive,” I said shaking my head in awe.

Nubia smile down at her hands as if she was unused to praise.

“Can I ask a strange request?”

Nubia looked me in the eye, “depends.”

“Can I draw you something?”

Nubia laughed but handed over her drawing pencil. I turned to a blank page and twisted in my seat so that she couldn't see what I was doing.

Nubia laughed and leaned against the window, “I guess that's fair.”

I smiled as I drew to my best ability. The best I can do is make it look slightly cartoonish. I drew Nubia as an Asgardian princess as best I could, but my drawing was nothing compared to hers. After I had finished my simple drawing I wrote ‘to Princess Nubia, your talents outshine the Midgardian sun’ on the side.

Nubia had been waiting patiently while I had worked. With a smirk I handed the notepad over to her. She took one look at it and tried to stifle a laugh.

“That bad, huh?” I asked jokingly.

“No, I love it, it's just cute.”

“Ah, yes, exactly what I was going for.”

Nubia’s eyes met mine, “thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

Glancing down at my drawing again, Nubia’s jaw dropped open.

“What's wrong?”

“You didn't sign it!” Her gaze snapped up to mine, “what kind of artist doesn't sign their work?”

“I'm sorry,” I laughed, taking the notepad back and scrawling my signature in the corner.

“Perfect.”

Nubia slipped her notepad and pencils back into her bag. Our plane was arriving at Heathrow airport so we belted ourselves into our seats and prepared for landing. Once the plane had stopped at the gate everyone started to get up and retrieve their bags. After pulling down my own bag, I grabbed Nubia’s bag and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said taking the bag from me.

We waited our turn to walk down the narrow aisle to exit the plane. After we walked through the gate Nubia’s family headed to customs, and I followed suit. Nubia’s family was just a few people ahead of me in line. I checked my phone to see if I had gotten any important emails or texts. There was another email from Matt, but there was also a text from my sister Louisa.

“Hey buddy, I need to talk to you, we must get together sometime soon.”

I texted back, “certainly, let me know when you’re free.”

Just then the line moved forward and I saw Nubia and her parents start walking away from customs. I really enjoyed hanging out with that girl, she was a real gem, and I was sad to know I’d probably never see her again. I watched her walking and then she stopped, turning to look back at me. Flashing a smile at her I saw her face scrunch up in thought. She handed one of her bags to her mom and ran over to me. Pulling her into a hug, I held her tight.

“Thank you for being so nice to me,” she said, her head leaning against my chest.

“You are very easy to be nice to, darling,” I told her, squeezing her tighter.

Nubia stepped back, smiling up at me, then turned and headed back to her mother. I silently wished her the best as I stepped forward in the line.

How Do I Cope?

He couldn't have died at a worse time.
I know that's wrong of my to say, but it's true. I pushed my hair out of my eyes, glancing at the growing pile of bills. How would I ever pay them now? His military pension was the only thing that had given us hope. That was  gone now. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud cry. I went up the stairs and into the second bedroom. Scooping up my one month old baby. Looking into her sweet, innocent face I realized that she would never know her father. A weight was laid on my shoulders as I became aware that the way this tiny baby thought about her father completely rested on me. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the diaper bag and headed out to the car that was waiting outside. Clutching my daughter close to me I wiped a tear from my eye. The ceremony was short. One of my husband's close friends presented me with the folded flag. Even though he's not supposed to, he leaned down and gave me a hug before returning to his place. I stared stoically at the casket as it was lowered into the ground. The musket fire rang through my body with each shot. The noise scared my daughter and she started to cry. I tried to calm her down, but it was no use. I couldn't take it anymore. I started to cry too. Sinking to my knees I held my head in one hand. Clearly surprised by my outburst, my daughter stopped crying and just looked at me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my husband's friend. I could tell by his face that he wanted to comfort me. My mom and sister stepped forward. My sister took the baby from me and my mom held me close to her.
After the ceremony everyone came up to offer me their condolences. I simply nodded, shook hands, and hugged them. When I thought I had gotten through everyone I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see my husband's friend. Without saying anything he enveloped me in a hug. He didn't offer any words of sympathy that wouldn't do anything. Nothing would bring my husband back. With a comforting arm around my shoulders he led me and my daughter back to the car.

Prayer Is Powerful

He watched, helpless, as the door closed behind her. Placing his head in his hands he paced back and forth in front of the door. Helplessly he sat down in a chair and prayed. He prayed for himself, he prayed for his wife, but most importantly, he prayed for his unborn child. Mindlessly twisting his ring around his finger, he prayed for his future. He prayed for strength in all the possible outcomes. Silently a single tear traced it's way across his face. He let it fall, he didn't care, nothing mattered right now but his wife. Not caring what those who walked by thought, he fell onto his knees and sobbed. Crying out for the Lord, crying out for His strength. Most people just passed him, but one woman stopped. She watched for a moment, saying a silent pray of her own. She hesitated for a moment then went over and placed a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up and saw her compassionate smile. She knelt beside and started praying, though she knew not what for. A quiet peace came over him, a peace that passes all understanding. They sat together in silence for what seemed like hours. At last the door opened. He stood up and faced the doctor.
"It's a girl," he said nodding his head. Placing a hand on his shoulder the doctor reassured him her could see his wife soon, but if he wanted to, he could see his daughter now.
"Yeah!"
The doctor retreated back into the operating room and returned moments later holding a bright pink bundle. He took his daughter in his arms and looked down at her peaceful sleeping face.. Turning to the woman behind him, he reached for her hand, "thank you so much for praying with me."
But when he turned around she wasn't there. In that moment he knew she had been an angel sent from God.
A few months went by and the man and his wife are scrambling around the house after their little girl, Angel.

All Around Me

In my Writing II class we had to write a free verse poem on a serious subject. I chose to write about the way people tend to respond to other people and how they respond to other people's responses to them. The following is what I came up with:

All around me people judge

They judge the way I look

They judge the way I talk

They judge what I believe

All around me people laugh

They laugh because I fell

They laugh because of my laugh

They laugh because of the way I dress

All around me are jackles

They find joy in other's suffering

But then they get upset,

 When people do the same to them

Memories and Moving On

Most vivid about his childhood memories of his home town was the times he spent at his neighbors farm. He spent every weekend there, and sometimes he'd go over after dinner. He loved to watch the horses in the pasture. He'd watch them for hours. But brushing them wand washing them was his favorite. He loved feeling the strong, sturdy muscles as he stroked the horse's back and flank. The way the horse's glassy eyes watched him as he did his work.
But he'll never forget that fateful day. The first day he rode a horse was fine. But then when he tried riding the horse by himself, well, that's when everything went wrong.
First he tensed, then the horse threw him backwards. As the horse reared it stepped backward, landing on his shin. Hearing the sickening crunch, and the painful wail, the horse shot forward, running around the track, circling back. The instructor had just reached him and pulled him off the track before racing to calm the horse down.
The next hour was a blur. With the paramedics rushing to his side, the ambulance ride to the hospital, and being prepared for surgery. When he woke up in his hospital room pain came shooting up from his leg. Glancing down he saw that his leg was in a brace. As the nurse explained what had happened he started to feel queasy.  
And now as he stood at the entrance to the horse farm all those memories came flooding back. He glanced down at his prosthetic leg and took in a shaky breath.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
He turned around and opened his arms wide, crouching to scoop up his daughter. His wife came up, laughing, and put her arm around him.
:This is brave of you, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."
"Anything for my two princesses!"
He took another deep breath, shifted his daughter on his hip, took his wife's hand in his and walked toward the barn.

Midnight Emotions

Midnight. Thoughts flooding my mind. Emotions running wild. My body shook, my eyes were blurry, my mind a fog. I rolled over and grabbed my phone. I texted the only person I knew I could. "I could use a hug right now," was all I needed to say. He talked to me, he let me talk at him. I told him things I'd never admitted to anyone. Though tears continued to flow my spirits were lifted. I told him I never wanted to lose him and he said I didn't have a choice: I'm stuck with him forever. After jokes and tears and virtual hugs I started feeling better. My eyes were dry, my smile back. 

It's an amazing feeling knowing that there is even one person who will make you feel better whenever you're feeling down. You may have differing opinions on certain topics, but when you have a mutual respect for each other those differences don't really matter. I love having a friend who will talk with me in the middle of the night until I feel better because he knows I would do the same for him. Friendships like these don't just happen. They're meant to be, predestined by God. Friendships like these aren't easily torn apart, they will stand the test of time. Friendships like these are the ones everyone longs for, but sadly not everyone has. When you have a friend like this they aren't just your best friend, they're your family. Because family isn't defined by blood, family is defined by the people you trust enough to love the way you love your family. Even if you move far away those bonds will hold because not even distance can break the bonds of a family.