My high school experience shifted occasionally, and when a hallway became familiar it changed. Three shifts in four years. I had an amount of choices to make, and lessons to learn, which developed my potential that I believe was given to me by God.
At Kickapoo High School, the first of the three, I learned to live. I was taught how to associate with people, how to make snacks at midnight, and how to catch fireflies in the summer. Then, one day, I packed my skills and self into a van and slept in the back as I dreamed of the possibilities of Eagle, Idaho, my new home. It’s a small town with exciting people that can make oatmeal seem like chocolate. There I learned to laugh. I developed nicknames, inside jokes and lifelong friends. But, sadly I had to swallow the sweet taste of that town, and yet again follow fates path. Christmas that year would by in Orem, Utah. There I learned my last and greatest lesson. I learned to love. I had a shoeless friend say “I love you” and mean it. I saw a tired friend sweetly ask his mother “Is there anything at all I can do to help?” and do it. And I met a girls whose faith exemplified what I thirsted for, and she shared it. I found friends that believed in me. I examined their clockwork, and saw the magic they contained. The love for others, the love for mothers, and the love for God was the rain and shine I needed to bloom.
I could have frowned in self pity, and looked at fate spitefully, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. Instead I took life, laughter, and love and embraced it, applied it and exploded with growth.