Back in college, in Maine, I lived for a year in a dorm up on the hilltop. It wasn’t much of a hill, just a slight rise in the generally flat topography of campus, but it was off on the corner of campus and a bit of a walk to get to the main campus where classes were held. And in the fall, it was always a bit breezy up there.
Fall in Maine is generally a lovely time, with trees changing color and all…but that is EARLY Fall. Late fall is another animal; the ground is frozen solid, trees are bare, a bitter wind blows down your collar and up your sleeves and cuffs, and there’s nothing lovely about it. And the walk from my Hilltop dorm down to campus involved a stretch across a barren piece that always felt a bit desolate.
One morning, on my way to class, I noticed the usual pieces of paper that were always here and there on the ground. It wasn’t a dump…but being a college campus there was always a bit of litter around. This particular morning, walking alone across that desolate stretch, I noticed one folded piece of paper off to my right, getting blown along the ground toward me. It seemed a bit ‘neater’ than the usual scraps of trash, and it was moving along at a rate that was going to bring it pretty much right across my path. When it blew up on to the sidewalk I was walking on, I just stepped on it to stop its motion, and picked it up. It looked like a note, folded up neatly. I unfolded it and it was a note.
A note….TO ME!!
Amazingly enough, a friend had written me a note and the night before had walked up to my dorm to put it in my mailbox, but when he got to the mailbox he discovered that he had dropped the note somewhere along the way. And the next morning, it found its way to me. I still am totally amazed at that!