Musings on a Monday morning

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On Facebook I talked to an old dormmate from way back in my college freshman year. He was a deep, critical thinker, a voracious and intelligent reader. I haven't seen him since he had gone AWOL due to financial reasons, compounded by family problems, the nature of which I'm not too familiar with. I'm glad he's doing well, sporting a decent job, and enjoying what looks like a blossoming romantic relationship with a charming lady. These profile pictures tell you a lot about a person, perhaps a whole lot more than what they intend to reveal.

He said he wanted to go back to school. It breaks my heart to hear people say that.

I was reminded of this 14-year old girl whose family sleeps on the front steps of the building where I live. Their bed consists of a make-shift bed of thick paperboards. Every night I would see her reading her books, scribbling in her tattered notebook, finishing her assignments, oblivious to the hardness of the cold floor. The frustration, I suppose, stems from that fact that there are so many disinterested students in good, reputable private schools these days who don't take their education seriously. Meanwhile there are those whose only desire is to get any education to help their families eventually.

 "When?" I asked him. Next semester, he said. I'm truly happy for him. He has been saving up for this.

He asked me how I'm doing, and I told him that after all these years, I'm still in school—a glorified graduate school really, only that now I deal with real, human patients.

And it occurred to me that waking up on Mondays to be in the hospital early is actually a blessing, not a curse. The opportunity to learn, grow, and mature in an educational setting is  just that—an opportunity to be thankful to God for.

I wish my friend all the best, and I will commit him in my prayers, knowing fully well that he will rock the University when he returns. After all these years, I'm sure he's still got it in him.

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