Daffodil

5 February 2022: In March 2022, right before everyone went home for what turned out to be the rest of the semester, one of my favorite students (a label that I attach to so many of them because that's how lucky I am) came by my office to talk about her project. On her way over, she had picked a little yellow and orange daffodil for me. "I'll keep this," I said, "until we're all together again." 

It was a sentimental, throw-away comment, I guess, full of naïve wishful thinking. But I put it in a little glass of water, kept it in my office on campus, and eventually, took it home and put it in my kitchen window. It dried out and stayed right there for months. I would look at it and think of her and all of my students, now just words on a screen or occasional faces on Zoom. 

Since then, that same student has a way of popping back up to say kind and gracious things just when I need them, even when I don't realize that I do. That includes this morning when she emailed me a sweet message just to say hello and tell me she hoped I was doing okay. I wrote her back and did my best to make it clear what a gift of a person she is. I hope she realizes it.  

And what a life I have to be surrounded by so many people who are gifts to those who know them.