Can we think of the world as a gift again? Can we lift our spirits in gratitude?
I feel cool in the crisp breezes of this early autumn upon us. There is no more beautiful season on this campus, and soon the leaves will concur with their colors.
I can smell the culinary engines at work, turning and churning out sustenance for students returning to our community. Breaking bread together: the simple things that had been forgotten.
I can breathe. I can breathe. I can breathe. I am inspired with the purity of this air, filled with promise. Life.
For all this I am grateful and for many other things besides, even if not named. For the oracular riddle will ever ring true: sometimes it’s the words you don’t say that speak volumes.
