Spring 2025
Congratulations
Class of 2025
“May the Lord bless you and Keep you…”
“On the hill of the rising sun Stands a college we hold so dear…’
~ Paisly Cleveland, Junior, Education
Note from the Editor:
When I was asked to resurrect UNVARNISHED WORDS, I did not quite know what I was agreeing to do. It has, however, turned out to be a labor of love. The best part for me was coming in contact with some spectacular students whose work I was privileged to read. . . without the burden of having to give out grades. What I read gave me joy and a camaraderie of spirit with other writers and artists, whether they be student, staff, or faculty. I was handed poems in hallways. I found stories slipped under my door, and I was always thrilled on the mornings I’d open my email and find little goodies to read.
A big thank you to my Editorial Team who came together after I relentlessly badgered them. They thought they were just studying in the library, but instead, found themselves recruited by the doggedness of a woman of a certain age. Also, much thanks to Dr. Shannon Leinen and the Provost’s office and to Dr. Hardy from the English Department for sharing a bit of their budgets to pay for the printing of UNVARNISHED WORDS. Had they not been so supportive, I would have had to print only one copy and we’d all have to pass it around.
To our artist contributors, I hope seeing your work in print makes you proud. You are now published writers and artists. You’ve allowed yourself to be vulnerable to those around you. You invited us all to get to know you in a different way, even though it was scary, but oh, how courageous you were and are. Don’t let this be the one and only time you step forward and place your heart in your hands for all to see. Everyone has a story or two to tell. Feel the fear, but tell it anyway!
To those who take the time to read this publication, I hope you appreciate the amount of work you hold in your hands. I hope we’ve made you think, laugh a little, and that what you see on these pages inspired and challenged you to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.
I love words. Nothing makes me happier than when I finally discover the perfect word I’d been searching for all day, hiding under a brain flap I didn’t know I had. Read. Write. Draw. Paint. Create.
Enjoy and thank you for supporting this effort.
~ deb cleveland
“The difference between the almost right word & the right word is really a large matter it's the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”
~ Mark Twain
Brittiance Bates
Paisly Cleveland
Cassandra J Farfalla
Maria Gonzalez-Diego
Mariah Janda
Andrea Moffatt-Rankin
Jordan Olivere
Dani Philp
April Rogers
Paige Season
Isaac Stark
Mallory Tremaine
Nayana Vahrenkamp
Elena Brown
Kaylee Collins
Josh Clark
Bobby DeHart
Madison Fields Grace Gaer
Jude Gray
Addie Leonard
Carla Montoya
Terrence Packer
Addison Harrold
Amaris Longoria
Chinyere Nwuju
Shyanne Parrot
Kiara Ray Kamryn Robinson
Dr. Clark Roush Harlie Saathhoff
Tanner Simmerman Domineece Silvels
Jared Stark Kenna Tarnowski
Lauren Tucker
Tausha Whitman
Sharon Turnell
To our readers: None of this is about you.. Chill.
Editorial Team (L to R): Terrance Packer, Addison Harrold, Deb Cleveland, Eliza
Rhoda, Madi Fields, Faith Tortstensen , Annslee Throne, Cheyenne Kiely
KATA-KATA YANG TIDAK DIPERNIS
PALAVRAS SEM VERNIZ
MOTS NON VERNIS UNGESCHMINKTE
FRONT COVER: Mariah Janda, Senior., Education, Elementary Ed.
“I took a pencil drawing I had done and put it into Photoshop Illustrator. I could see what I wanted in my head. As I kept working on it, the vision changed and grew into the finished product.”
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Lord, when the words of men sting, tune my ears to the worship of your creation.
Let the wind make the trees dance in perfect harmony. Let the birds sing their songs of praise. Set my eyes on the masterpiece, its beauty does not compare to your glory. Tune my heart to the rhythm of praise. For you are Holy forever.
~ Grace Gaer, Alumna, Recruitment
~Sunset.1 Jude Gray
Sweeping Snow (For Sue)
One-eighth inch of snow, not very cold.
A dusting, we say things like that when it’s February in Nebraska. I step outside to clear the steps, the drive, the walks in a winsome egg-shelled earth.
I reach for the heavy-duty shovel.
“Not the blade, but the broom,” she says. But the blade will be more efficient… “Efficient for what?” she replies. The broom will take longer…
“That's the idea, you'll see tracks from the squirrels, the blue jays, too,” she continued.
Blue jays, the year-round bird roosting in evergreens for warmth
“And the broom won't wake neighbors still sleeping,” she explains.
I comply.
Fine, the broom then, and go about sweeping snow. I finish. There. Done.
“And the neighbors’ sidewalk?” she asks. Which neighbor?
“You know,” she responds Both?
As I sweep silently I ask, “Will the neighbors even notice?”
“Doesn’t matter, because the lesson is for you,” she tells me.
~Jared Stark, Interim, YU President
The final project for my English 103 classes this year was to write a letter to Anne Frank. We had spent time researching the life of 13-year-old Anne and the secret annex where she and her family hid in an effort to escape Hitler’s hatred and persecution of those of Jewish decent. As a class, we met at the Innovation Lab on the second floor of Mackey as each student virtually entered the secret annex and explored the infamous hiding place where Anne recorded her experiences and her dreams. Sadly, after two years of hiding, the family was discovered and were sent to concentration camps, where all, but her father, Otto, died. Years later, it was he who fulfilled Anne’s dream of becoming an author by publishing The Diary of a Young Girl ~ deb cleveland
Dear Anne,
I am Dani Philp. Currently, I am a freshman at York University studying business. I would like to tell you a little about my life. From a little girl, I was always super shy and I had a hard time speaking up for what I wanted. My older brother was my voice when I was young. He would also be my comfort whenever my parents fought. He would cover my ears with head phones and sit with me until the fighting stopped. My parents were divorced when I was five years old, but got back together when I was eleven. It was good at first, but the fighting came back and I was five again. But, this time, without my brother to comfort me.
I admire how you were able to know when to stand up for yourself and talk about what you witnessed. It takes a lot of courage to talk about bad experiences. I admire how smart you were and didn’t let anyone take your voice from you. I admire how you knew what you wanted to do, how you stayed strong, and how you advocated for yourself and your cause.
I wonder what you felt when you thought you had no place to escape? What was it like not to go outside that whole time? Lastly, what did you feel when you were taken away from your family?
Your story impacted me in multiple ways. I relate to what you have done because your life and certain situations connect with me. The one that stands out most is that you were able to be yourself and make the best out of the situations you were forced into. Your hiding place taught me not to take things for granted and to appreciate what I have because it can be taken away in an instant. It makes me feel sympathetic to know what you have gone through. I idolize you and want to be more like you because of your strength to get through everything.
Sincerely,
Dani Philp, Freshman, Business Administration
Dear Anne Frank,
My name is Tanner and I live in Stanton, Nebraska in the United States. I’m a student at York University and I’m interested in your story. I also enjoy playing golf and exploring different aspects of my faith. Your story has always been a significant part of my learning journey, and I feel a strong connection to your experiences through your diary.
I deeply admire your courage and resilience. Despite the unimaginable hardships you faced, you managed to maintain hope and a sense of normalcy. Your ability to find beauty and meaning in the smallest moments, even while in hiding, is truly inspiring. In spite of the dire circumstance, your strength and positive outlook are qualities that I aspire to embody in my life.
I have so many questions about your experience. What was it like to live in such close quarters with other families for so long? How did you manage to stay hopeful and creative during those difficult times? Were there any moments when you felt particularly strong or particularly vulnerable? I often wonder about your emotions and how you coped with the constant fear and uncertainty.
“Lookathowa singlecandlecan bothdefyand definethe darkness.”
~Anne Frank
Your story has had a profound impact on me. Visiting your hiding place and reading your diary has taught me the importance of resilience and the power of hope. It has shown me that even in the darkest times, the human spirit can shine brightly. Your words have left a lasting impression on me, reminding me to appreciate the freedom and opportunities I have, and to stand up against injustice in any form.
Respectfully,
Tanner Simmerman, Freshman
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I saved her that day. Those words somehow worked a miracle. My intentions were just self-expression, nothing more, nothing less. I told her what she meant to me and how broken I'd be without my other half. My words can somehow sound cheesy, sound meaningless, but you could feel what I had written, you could feel the love in my words, and feel the feeling of the unexplainable.
I didn’t mean to stop her, I was meant to share the words she needed to hear. So here she is, alive, and here I am, alive.
Sadness, Happiness, and Madness are all temporary.
I think that's what kept us going because maybe just maybe we will get the life we wanted. It's not about the gift we will receive after. Life was the gift we had forgotten we were given.
~ Amaris Longoria, Senior, Criminal Justice, Psychology
The dog was old. I gave him a bone And he went home.
The Night was cold.
“Lord,
you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world from every lasting to everlasting you are God.” ~ Psalm 90:1-2
“And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good . . .”
Genesis 1:3
~ Rocky Mountains– Kenna Tarnowski, Senior, Psychology
~Sunset.2- Jude Gray , Freshman, History, Bible
The Great Reversal
~
Addie Leonard, Sophomore, Biology, General
“I lift up my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
~ Psalm 121: 1-2
Grand Tetons– Isaac Stark, Junior, Accounting
"A cheerful heart is good medicine. . . .”
~ Proverbs 1:22
# The future, the present and the past walk into a bar. Things got a little tense.
# A mechanical engineer, an electrical engineer, and a software engineer are on a road trip when their car won’t start.
The mechanical engineer says: “Let me check the starter.”
The electrical engineer says, “Let me make sure the battery is connected.” And, the software engineer says, “Before we do anything else, let’s all get out of the car and then get back in.”
# “Knock. Knock.“”
“Who’s there?”
“To.”
“To who?”
“To whom.”
# What’s the difference between a hippo and a zippo? One’s really heavy and the other is a little lighter.
# I tell my friends, I’m here for them 24/7 because it sounds better than saying I’m only here for them on the 24th of July.
# A Jewish guy converts to Christianity. His distraught father prays, “Oh, God, my son converted to Christianity! What should I do?”
God says, “You know, I had that same problem.”
~ Paisly Cleveland, Junior, Education
~ Nayana Vahrenkamp, Senior, Psychology
:): BipolarBullet :(:
Mental health is a bullet in a gun with a bipolar bullet it feels like a machine gun going out of control
The meds can’t make it all go away
The “friends” can’t make it go away
Only he can change how he acts and feels. but how in the living heck can he change how he acts and feels if he is always in a color spiral of emotions red for anger, blue for depression yellow that’s supposed to be happy, right?
No, that’s the color of his daydream A daydream that makes him think about suicide.
What is happinesswith bipolar?
He acts happy on the outside when he really hurts on the inside.
How is he supposed to be happy with that?
The inside of his heart, pierced with that bipolar bullet, leaves a huge wound that he has to fill up. But with what?
Drugs? Alcohol? Toxic friends? What about his real, honest friends? Those don’t exist anymore.
He fills like most people are deceitful just like his emotions, they lie just like his thoughts.
The boy has gone through so much mental hospital, therapeutic boarding school, people judging left and right
And yet he still is kind-hearted, he still cares about people. What type of kid does that? Huh?
The kid with bipolar bullet that’swho! He struggles so much to the point that he wants to die. He is so empathetic that’s why he does not want anyone else to go through what he did.
He would even put himself in someone else’s shoes if they’re struggling! He is to the point where he is drained from all the people pushing him away he’s just trying to help. He lies here with the bipolar bullet in his heart
It is too big for him to handle. His last thought is this, “When you are a good person you don’t lose people, people lose you.”
~ Josh Clark, Sophomore
Sands of Solitude
And now you will walk on the beach with her, drawing in the sand. And now you will walk in the water with her, holding her hand. And now I think that we used to do the same things you and your new love do.
Seeing you and her together gives me painful Déjà vu.
, her r The way you left like tides on the beach, you broke me without a care. And now I stand alone, watching the waves, and with wind catching my hair.
I once stood here with you and I once held your hand too.
The ocean's whisper brought me solace that I had to find without you. The sunset put my heart back together that you broke so easily. I finally realized I have to start choosing me.
~ Domineece Silvels, Freshman
Lifecouldbeaturtle.
Whereeveryoneishidingintheirshell
So,noonecanseetheirtrueselfcause,well, Likeinthisworldit’sbettertohideyourselfthan show.
AmIright?
Orwhatiflifewaslikelittletadpoles? Wearejustswimmingliketheinnocent Peopleweare.Weswiminoursmall Groupswhenwewerelittle,butaswe Growolderandmoremature,weseethat Ourlittlegroupsneverlastlong. Iwatchthewavesrippleasthefluorescent Sunlightbeamsdownfromtheheavens
Asiftosay,good-morrow. Loveisjustafigureofourimagination.
~Lauren Tucker
~Watercolor-Deb Cleveland
God is Calling
We have been told God’s voice is gentle and it is hard to hear. But the Devil is loud and he is always screaming in my ear.
I wish God would shout too but he would never yell at his daughter. He only whispers kind words because he is a merciful father.
I change my mind I wish God would shout too but he would never yell at his daughter. He only whispers kind words because he is a merciful father.
I change my mind
I don’t wish for God to yell because in the quiet I find him and I enjoy his peace as well. God is great and greatly to praised so I’ll listen out for his soft voice I could listen to it for the rest of my days.
~Madison ‘Cookie’ Fields, Junior
~ Nayana Vahrenkamp, Senior, Psychology
“
Whatever is Noble, Whatever is Pure, Whatever is Lovely. . . Think on these things.”
~ Philippians 4:8
~ Mallory Tremaine, Junior, Music
~ Addison Harrold, Junior, Education
The Moon
The lunar orb climbs its imaginary ladder into the celestial realms.
So full, so big, so bright.
It does not light up the evening sky on its ownit has no inner luminescence -
The heavens contain a greater light that it reflects nightly.
But, that is its purpose, and that is enough for it.
You were the greatest source of light in my heavens.
Very possibly you still are.
Maybe my job is simply to reflect your beauty and goodness to those around me.
Maybe I as a single man can be full, big, and bright - like the moon.
And like the moon, maybe I can gleam and glisten and mirror your brightness all around -
Even amid the clouds and storms. The radiance you emanated to me and all those around you was magnificent.
What if my role isn’t to try to outshine you, but to replicate your light because it no longer is here?
Can I be the beacon you were?
Can that be my purpose?
Can that be enough for me?
I can’t reproduce your brightness, but maybe my attempts to glow can be enough.
~ Clark Roush, PhD
~ Jesus heals the bleeding woman– Kiara Ray, Senior, Biology
Crushed Spirit
While sipping this instant black Columbian coffee from a small plastic, tan cup, the acrid bitterness dominates my taste buds. A touch of granulated, white sugar only brings out the sweet bitterness even more than before. With my eyes wide open, there is nothing around me to brag about. The floor is made of warped white and blue speckled tiles that have seen thousands of broken footprints. They are shiny from recent weekly buffing. I can see my reflection in them. The four walls seem to be closing in on me, trapping and crushing me in mind, body, and spirit. Depression descends upon me knowing what these drab, gray walls represent. I am a caged bird whose wings have been clipped by my own past life choices.
Laying on the bottom bunk, I can see an assortment of plastic, see-through, prison- issued items hanging from the underside of the top bunk. The 15-inch Hiteker prison television/monitor sways from the paperclips that holds it up. The set’s cords slither across the wall like a black, garter snake. A small desk lamp casts a luminescent glow upon the wall as dust particles dance in its ambience. The clip-on fan, that doesn’t oscillate, whirls on, creating circulation and the ability to breath in this 10 x 13 cubical that was meant to house three female inmate, but lucky for me, only two of us are assigned to it right now.
In the community room, Black R-10 headphones adorn my ears. My curly brown hair poofs out from the sides. The headphones help to zone out the loud and increasingly irritating sound of the squawking, diverse group of women who are conversing in an all-tooclose-in proximity lobby. The music cascades into my eardrums, blasting into my conscious mind on the most damaging volume available. The artist, Juice Wrld, serenades and poetically describes my past life with each verse. The lyrics dance and glide around in my ears and thoughts. They create visions of who I once was. Charged with emotion, this artist’s music resonates with my own tumultuous emotions. Together, Juice Wrld and I fade away from these peeling, gray walls and free-fall on this emotionally damaging roller coaster only known as prison.
~ Cassandra J. Farfalla, YU student-NCCW
A Crucial Moment in My Life
First and foremost, this was a time in my life when I began to experience the official start of my adulthood, including the struggles, obstacles, hardships, decision making, accomplishments, and relationships that eventually made me into the woman and college athlete that I am today. It started on Tuesday, October 10th, 2023 in the Fall semester of my freshman year of college. The worst day of my life. Waking up to a cold morning, I turned my alarm off, and in doing so I noticed my boyfriend had texted me. ”I know what you did, Elena.” I assumed his morning wasn’t going well, considering the negativity of his text. I decided to try and ignore the message and proceeded to get ready for my day.
Of course, over our time together, I knew that ignoring my boyfriend back home wasn’t an option. His lies and emotional abuse poured into my subconsciousness like poisonous venom. I took his abuse because I was blinded by but on this day, it would set in motion a mental toll I didn’t see coming. “
You do not know what you’re talking about.”; “We are having a baby whether you like it or not.; “You never loved me.”; “Why are you entertaining those boys out there?”; “You can’t leave me.” ; “You’re not wearing that outfit unless I’m with you.” Those comments are just a few things that would be said to me from time to time. “I’m sorry” was my go-to phrase whenever I wanted him to stop being mad at me. At times he wouldn’t talk to me and he would purposefully let my mind wonder about his whereabouts, who he was with, or simply what he was doing. The endless cycle of torment I experienced on a day to day basis was engraved into my brain. Unquestionably, I allowed his unhealthy insecurities onto me. So much so, that I began to doubt my self-worth and my self-esteem.
Later that day, this particular practice would determine where I stood as a freshman volleyball player. I wanted to be a starter. I wanted to fight for a chance on the court. I wanted the Libero spot. Once on the court, the air felt heavy and couldn’t catch my breath. I had worked so hard and invested so much of myself into this sport, since my coach was new to the universities volleyball program he had not seen what all I was capable of. I felt because I was just a freshman, I had to put twice the amount of effort in as everyone else in order to prove myself to the coach. It seemed everyone else had multiple chances to prove themselves, meanwhile, my chances were always limited. One mistake and I was out. One misread and I was out. One missed call and I was out. I tried to be the perfect defensive specialist. Volleyball was my world. Whenever I felt like something wasn’t going my way in life, I would look towards the court as my escape mechanism. I would allow it to affect my emotions outside of the court, while at the same it, would erase whatever emotion I had been feeling upon entering the court.
My dreams seemed to shatter when after practice I was told I had not earned a starting position. When I didn’t get the spot I wanted, instantly I was hit with the realization that my entire identity was centered on athletics. My purpose, my mission, and my self-worth were all dictated by volleyball.
I went back to my room dejected. Later I checked my grades and had to face the fact that they were all declining. I was a failure, F’s all around in every class. I had ignored not only my grades, but so many activities and social events as well. It was too much and from that point on I started to slowly fall into a deep sadness. Discouragement flooded my thoughts like an ongoing tide, pouring into every crease of my mind Crying became a part of
my daily routine. My drive for college athletics was officially shattered. I didn’t care to start on the court, I didn’t care to be the Libero, and I didn’t care to fight anymore. I dressed differently, I talked differently, my attitude changed, and my mentality toward life changed. I distanced myself from my family members back at home, along with my friends on campus. I couldn’t surround myself with my peers or teachers for too long at a time or I would start crying. I didn’t even have to see something that was sad or something that could possibly make someone cry. All the while the self-loathing was exasperated by the constant belittling texts coming from my boyfriend. I felt like I was on edge whether it was me on the verge of bawling my eyes out or swearing up a storm. I felt deeply broken.
I couldn’t do anything right and it was like everything I touched would instantly rot. Areas of my life smelled spoiled and soured. This sadness invaded the way I dressed, how I wore my hair, and my relationships at work.
My abusive relationship with my boyfriend continued to take its toll. I was not a started, I was failing all of my classes. I became too tired to fight back. Life was too hard. I don’t know why or where I got the strength to do it, but I finally told my mom about how I had been feeling and what was happening to me. To my surprise she shared with me a piece of her past where she experienced a similar feeling and experience to mine. That moment is what helped me turn away from all the negativity and reassess my purpose, my longing, and decisions that needed to be made.
I finally had the strength to break up with my boyfriend. I attended therapy, and I started looking towards the Bible for help and I received it. The Bible helped me understand the importance of patience in the book of Psalms where it states, “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.” (Psalm 37:7) I started to slowly see changes in my attitudes and in my faith. I came to believe that God would handle any chaotic and overwhelming situation accordingly. It was a reminder that even when wrongdoers are being rewarded, with patience, my time to strive will come and I shall put trust in God.
This experience has molded me into the adult woman I am today. Additionally, therapy, has allowed me to rebuild my self-esteem and self-worth, and find my own voice. In particular, I stopped obsessing over my reputation, and image/ When I first came to York, image and reputation was everything. Before , this experience, I didn’t know much about the honorable things God could do for me. The mission of York University is ‘to transform lives through Christ-centered education and to equip students for lifelong service to God, family, and society’. After putting my full trust in God, I can confidently say that through internal transformation along with his guidance, my education, athletics, mental health, and lifestyle are healthier than they’ve ever been. This experience has given me the opportunity to gain a closer relationship with the Lord, explore my true identity, and find my voice. Now when people see me, they see the real me.
~ Elena Brown, Sophomore, Biology, General
Six-Word Stories
The students in ENG 113: Composition I at the Nebraska Correctional Center for Women were asked to write a six-word story that represented them in some way. This is what they (and their instructor) wrote:
Brittianee Bates- “The loudest silence I’ve ever heard.”
Cassandra Farfalla- “Like a phoenix, I’ll rise gain.
Maria Gonzalez-Diego- “Manifesting my life. Adding intense pressure.”
Steven Hardy- “Never left college. Right choice? Maybe.”
Andrea Moffatt-Rankin- “Molding reality to fit my perception.”
Carla Montoya- “Dream, pray, and don’t lose hope.”
Chinyere Nwuju- “Little white lies tell big stories.”
ShyAnne Parrott- “Tinted lenses. Hopeful wishes. Dreamless visions.”
April Rogers- “Everywhere I go, there I am.”
Harlie Saathoff- “Stuck in a revolving set routine.”
Paige Seaton- “Colors were everywhere. Life is gray.”
Sharon Turnell- “Hold on. Pain ends. Don’t despair.”
Tausha Whitman- “Sorry messy house. Making memories here!”
~ Nayana Vahrenkamp, Senior, Psychology
What I did on my summer vacation– Study Abroad
~ deb cleveland, senior
Last summer I went to Europe with a bunch of YU students and a few older folks. Our Italian guide, Marina, a short, red-headed Ninja Turtle in her own right, rounded us up every morning and proceeded to march us all over the cobbled streets of Florence, Rome, Vatican City, Pompei, and Delphi. We’d cluster around her still nibbling on our breakfast croissants. Then, she’d raise her telescopic pole of dangling Beanie Babies, a maneuver to keep us from losing her in the throngs of people, and off we’d go. Marina never looked back to see if we were behind her or if anyone had fallen in the street and couldn’t get up, or if we’d all scattered like mice. Marina marched and we followed. We average 20,000 to 30, 000 steps per day. After several days of culture immersion of Michelangelo’s handiwork, Brunelleschi’s Dome, the miracle that was Pompei, and Constantine’s Arch. Finally, we entered the haunting beauty of the ancient Coliseum, where death and torture had played out center stage as entertainment. And, just when we thought we could not inhale anymore beauty, Marina herded us onto a ship for a three-day cruise around the Greek Islands. As I walked up the gangplank, I tried my best not to hear the Gilligan’s Island theme song echo through my head.
The Greek Islands were a bigger than life mosaic, painted by God in every shade of blue. And, then there was the color white. It was everywhere, cathedrals, streets, walls, clouds. And not just any white, starched white. It was as if at the bewitching hour, fairies would flit from behind ashen whitewash and repaint, scrub and spit-shine everything for the next day. Even the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas partnered with the sky and put on their own art exhibit. We sailed to Turkey, the city of Ephesus, and the Ise of Patmos. My heart was not prepared for the connection it would make with those lovely ruins. Here, walked the apostles Peter, and Paul, the young Timothy, and the beloved John. So much of this city had been excavated that the imagination need not exert itself. I could see and touch what those a thousand years before me had seen and touched. Marble, stone, and holy symbols etched on pillars and archways gave me chills. The essence of God and the Holy Spirit still lingered in this place where God came nearvery, very near. The Hellenistic Amphitheater that had been carved out of an Ephesian hillside centuries before Christ, stretched out and up like a dragon lounging in the sun. The structure was as acoustically impressive at our visit as it must have been when the Apostle John escorted Jesus’ mother, Mary, down those cobbled streets.
The most impressive sight for me was the library of Celsus, built in the second century. Once destroyed by fire, then rebuilt, the structure with its surviving glorious arches and columns stood her ground like a Roman queen. I walked under arches where extremely large doors once opened and closed. The exterior walls of stone and scattered windows were a testimony of craftmanship and longevity. The cubbies that once were stacked along the walls full of scrolls and wonders, were of course gone. But, oh, the thought of the stories they held left me spellbound.
I could go on and on. The students were precious and gladdened my heart. The older folks, were comical with tired feet. I fell in love with young and old. Study Abroad! Students, just do it! Older folks, if you’re so inclined, the hunt for comfy shoes should begin now. Ciao!
Ephesus Library– Bobby DeHart
“Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God. To the saints in Ephesus, the faithful in Christ Jesus. Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”
~Apostle Paul Ephesus 1: 1-2
~
Watercolor~ Santorini– deb cleveland
~ Addison Harrold, Junior, Education
Famous Lead Sentences-
"In his hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are His also.”
( Psalm 95:4)
How well versed are you on the classics? Can you name the book and author of each quote? Answers are at the bottom.
1. “Call me Ishmael.”
2. “It was the best of times, it was the worse of times…”
3. “All happy families are alike, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
4. “In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.”
5. “This is a truth universally acknowledged that a man of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
6. “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”
7. “All this happened, more or less.”
8.”The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.”
3. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy; 4. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald; 5. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen; 6. 1984 by George Orwell; 7. Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut; 8. The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Answers: 1. Moby Dick by Herman Melville ;2. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens;
Until Death Us Do Part
Why do I feel I have to compete for love and attention?
My heart feel so big, but it is as small as a pebble.
I suffer from many traumas and pasts that were not my life. Sometimes it is hard to breathe behind a smile, but I know if I hold my breath, all this pain is for nothing.
My favorite color is gray which makes me wonder.
Gray seems as if it’s a sad color, but to me
It’s the most elegant and beautiful color of all.
The shades express so much passion and emotion in each tone. Instead of liking music alone, I enjoy the beats.
The beats bring harmony and are a drug to my heart.
We say different is okay, but can we talk about how it’s not?
The definition of different is “”not the same as another, or each other Unlike in nature, form or quality.”
In society, there are things known as trends Being part of a trend makes one popular or cool, But the opposite makes one a loser and unknown. I call myself a loser and weirdo.
I want people to know it is actually okay to be different, To not be the one in the spotlight, but still receive the goodness of God. I find being an only child in this world scary.
Everyday I see families together and feel empty for me, yet happy for them.
Seeing something so beautiful feels like a warm sunny day on the beach With just the sounds of waves crashing.
While I try to think positively, an even bigger wave of sadness overtakes me. This ‘being alone’ is a dark hole I want to escape.
But, I have people waiting for me at the rim, reaching their arms down, But I’m still too far away to grasp their hands.
Recently I couldn’t breathe, smile, or even ask for help. I wanted to reach out, but I’m an only child.
I have to be independent and figure it all out on my own, right?
I’m also a girl, so it’s just another one of my obstacles, right? I need to try or I’m not good enough, right?
I suddenly feel drained, I fight a battle I’m not sure I will win. But I can handle it because I was trained.
I will fall short or I will rise too high, but when do I get that balance? Libra is a non-living symbol of balance and harmony That brings justice to those around them. It is draining to portray my natural identity. Love hurts. Love is pain. Love is death. The day comes, the most happiest day of my life. In a random place among family and friends, I recite vows to my partner, And then repeat, “Until death do us part.”
Until death.
Am I enough? JUST STOP!
Tears run down my face, my chest hurts, I’m not breathing. I’m not ready, but my body gives me permission. Everything slowly shuts down, from the arch of my feet to the top of my head.
I am the one to leave first. Now you are free, right?
Kamyrn Robinson, Freshman, Biology
I woke up to a knock at my door. I move slowly out of bed. I’m hoping this is just a dream and that I’m not actually awake. I open the front door of my apartment and in my mailbox by the door is a note. I immediately know what day it is. It’s Choosing Day. I walk back inside. My hands shake as I open the envelope.
Dear Kat, you have a choice, to save the life of your soulmate, or save the lives of one hundred random people. You have until the end of the month to choose what happens. the fate of one or many rests in your hands. Choose wisely. Sincerely, The Choice Master
The letter falls out of my hands. I am in shock. I have a month to decide who dies. How am I supposed to know who my soulmate is? Is he going to fall out of the sky? How do I find out if I want to save him or others? I try to go back to sleep, but I toss and turn, so I get up and start my day. I step into the shower to let the hot water wash my worries away.
At breakfast, I get a text from my best friend, Mel, who wonders if I want to go with her to a party later. I tell her yes, and that she can come over to get ready. She responds within seconds, saying that she’s already on her way. I hear a knock on the door. I jump at the sound.
“Kat, open the door,” a familiar voice says from the other side of the door. I walk over to the door and open it. It’s Mel.
We start the day off by watching our favorite movie, Tangled. Such a classic. Once the movie ends we start to get ready for the party. Mel seems to notice something is up. “What’s wrong Kat?”
“I got a letter this morning.” I look over to the letter sitting on my dresser.
“So, did I.” She looks sorrowful.
The worst has happened. We have both been chosen to make the impossible choice.
“I’m scared, Mel. I’ve never met my soulmate, and I have to choose if he or so many people die?” The world goes blurry from the tears that threatening. “I don’t even know his name.What do I do?”
I don’t know, sweetie. I’m in the same boat. We’ve both got a month to find our soulmates and see if we want to save them.”
I know she’s trying to be optimistic, but it comes off as something else. Fear. What would happen if we decide to not save anyone? Could we override the system? A knock at the door rips me from my thoughts. Panic builds and I can’t breathe. I walk downstairs and take a deep breath as I open the door. There’s no one there, but there is another letter. I go back to Mel who is still in my room getting ready. I open the letter.
Dear Kat, I have written to you again to tell you your soulmate’s name. His name is Cole Ryder. Go to the party and the rest will follow suit. Sincerely, The Choice Master
I drop the letter like a hot potato. I tell Mel the name of my soulmate and she squeals. Even though this is a serious decision we both have to make, we can’t be blamed for wanting to find our soulmate. We finish getting ready for the party. We jam out to music in Mel’s car as we drive to the party. When we arrive our panic kicks back in. We enter the house and walk straight back to the kitchen. I fill the red Solo cup with Coke-a-Cola where I’m pushed into the counter.
“Oh no, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” a deep voice says. I turn around to face the guy. The first thing I notice is his eyes. Such a deep ocean blue. I could get lost in those eyes.
“Uh, yeah I-I’m okay.”
“I’m Cole Ryder, by the way.” He sticks his hand out. My blood runs cold. He’s my soulmate.
“It’s nice to meet you Cole. I’m Kat Johnson.” I try to conceal my nerves as I shake his hand. He looks at me in shock. “I think you’re my soulmate, Kat,” He says in a low whisper.
“And you’re mine,” I whisper back. We exchange numbers when the party’s over. Mel and I go home. I tell her everything that happened at the party. I decide I’m going to get to know him for the month that I have to decide. Mel also met her soulmate at the party. His name is Sean. We are both thinking about saving our soulmate’s, but the guilt of killing hundreds of people for two people is too hard to fathom
A week later, Cole and I start dating. We talk about everything, from favorite colors, to what would happen at the end of the month. We still have three weeks before Choosing Day. We continue to go on dates and do everything together. We go on a few double dates with Mel and Sean.
“I’m so glad I found you, Kat Johnson.” He smiles the most amazing smile I’ve ever seen.
“I’m so glad I found you, too, Cole Ryder.” I smile back at him. Two weeks go by and the anxiety starts to get to me. At night I start to have full blown panic attacks. Mel knows about them, but Cole does not. I’m so in love with him that it scares me. I love everything about him. Three weeks go by and we’ve said ‘I love you’ to each other. I know it seems soon, but when a girl meet her soulmate, she just knows she want to spend the rest of her life with him. I tell him no matter what happens next week, I’ll always love him.
Choosing Day is today. Mel and I make our way to the building. We hug and tell each other that whatever we decide, we’ll be okay. I walk into a curtain box that looks like a voting booth. I look at my choices. My soulmate or a hundred people that I may or may not know. I chose Cole, although I feel guilty about only saving one life instead of a hundred people. I walk out of the building to find Mel waiting for me.
“I chose Sean.” She says.
“I chose Cole.” We hug each other. Hoping the consequences won’t be too grave. We drove back to my house to meet up with the guys. They picked us as well. We turn on the news to see the aftermath of Choosing Day. ‘Hundreds die in a plane crash’; ‘Hundreds more expected to die on Choosing Day’. “Do you guys want to go for a walk?” I ask, trying to shake the guilt. They all nod.
We walk around the neighborhood, but then decide to go for a longer walk. We’re laughing so loud to drown out our guilt. We don’t hear the car barreling down the road behind us. I don’t look both ways before I step out onto the road. At first, I don’t feel the pain, but soon the pain becomes unbearable. Everything goes silent, except for the ringing in my ears. I can feel the blood in my veins, I feel everything and nothing at the same time.
“Kat!” I hear a voice scream, but I can’t pinpoint where it is coming from. My eyes open a little to see Cole crouching down in front of me. “You’re going to be okay Kat. I’ve got you now, you’re going to be okay.” But, I know that I’m not going to make it out of this alive. I am one of the hundreds that are going to die to save a soulmate. He holds me in his arms and starts to count my freckles like he once did on a date, except this time, I wish there were more for him to count. “I found you once, I promise I’ll find you again. I love you Kat.” He kisses me one last time, his tears mixing with mine.
That’s the day I died. ~ Kaylee Collins, Freshman, English
Victory’s Rhythm
Beaten and broken over and over again. I get up and start again. Scratches and bruises cover my body, Buy my spirit and you will have me for eternity. My spirit is one of a kind If you have me, I will never let you die I I am a freedom fighter that will make everyone smile. I will turn the world into rubber just to see your smile. The people watching me from the other side Are eagerly awaiting my victory. With my smile, I will make you proud, I will grab lightning from the heavens And send them down to the beaten earth, I will pick up the beaten earth and play it like a drum, I will stretch my body for you. Even if every bone in my body shatters, If every ligament in my body tears, If every tendon in my body ruptures, For you to see my victory is all that matters.
~ Terrance Packer, Junior, English
Both Sides of the Line
Walking on a thin rope that leads two ways. One life and one death. People are fragile feeble creatures, created by God to be tested and tried. She was once filled with life, Long silky black hair, With strands of white showing her wisdom. Now the weight scale she steps upon dwindles, And the wisdom-filled hair falls from her scalp.
Skinny arms and skinny legs
As thin as razors, That can ever so slightly slice open the flesh of man. That is not like her. She is no longer herself. Unrecognizable, Her smooth head is a silhouette Of something that was once more young and vibrant. Now she is confined to a bed that will mark her last days. Her last day wasn’t marked by what was lost Her last day was marked by what was gained I can see in her eyes, She is walking on a thin rope that leads two ways .
~ Terrence Packer, Junior, English
~ Addison Harrold, Junior, General Studies
What is Truth?
I hear that this is the rebirth of Unvarnished Words, so I wanted to contribute. I’m new to York University recruited to teach computer science. I also came because of York’s mission and my love for Truth. What is Truth? In the gospel of John before Jesus was crucified, he was taken before Pontius Pilate, governor of Judea, who asked the question, “What is truth?”
Truth is often misunderstood as merely a collection of facts, but it is much more than that. Most people do not understand that Truth is really a metaphysical idea and is not merely based on empirical facts. To be fair, all empirical facts are part of Truth, but Truth encompasses more than facts. Truth is what corresponds with reality and metaphysics as the study of reality. I am using a rather narrow definition of Truth, rejecting ideas such as relative truth or an individual's truth. I'm speaking of a foundational Truth that provides for the realistic and tangible application of physics, chemistry, computer science, engineering, biology and the like, but also logically and existentially aligns with our lived experience of reality. So, let me leave the philosophical and come back to a more understandable way of explaining Truth.
Is it true that your parent, or a grandparent, or a spouse, or even a dear friend actually loves you? How do you know? To be sure, not everyone has a loving and stable family background, but we all understand, a little, what a true loving relationship looks like. How do you know if your mother loves you? Can you measure it? There is not a "unit of love" with a maximum value of, say, 100 LU's such that a function or computer program exists that can calculate the love between two people. Can you imagine a function that can do that? F (p1 à p2) = LU where p1 is person 1, p2 is person 2 and the function F yields an empirical, calculated number of LU's (love units) from p1 to p2. I'm sure our Math professor, Mark Miller, can explain this during the Monday night Ignite Excellence tutoring session. This mythical function does not exist, but love is a part of reality and everyone knows it. Is this a true statement? Of course it is!
What is Truth? If Truth corresponds to reality, then Christianity must be examined by asking if the Bible and teachings of Christ align with what we observe. The answer is YES, and it aligns with reality in many ways. For example, there may not be a formula or a computer program to measure love, but love is real, and we know it, and the Christian faith is ultimately about the sacrificial love of God. Also, the way the world works is explained by the Christian faith. Both good and bad people exist; life is filled with joys and sorrows; life is often not fair, but it is still better to stay fully engaged in life, filled with hope. These things are true.
The part of Christianity that is most challenging, however, is accepting the idea of eternity and the spiritual realm being real. This include entities we cannot see such as angels, demons, and other spiritual beings. Much of the Bible deals with this invisible world. If Christianity accurately describes human nature, morality, and reflects history, then its teachings about the unseen world should also be carefully examined rather than injudiciously rejected. What is Truth? It involves facts, for sure. But, it also involves aspects of reality that we cannot see or measure. Jesus said, “I am the way and the Truth and the life…” (John 18:38) Many of us at York are convinced that those words are true. York’s mission is to transform lives through Christ-centered education and to equip students for lifelong service to God, family and society. For me, part of this means helping students see the Truth, not just about academic facts, but about life and eternity.
~ Fuller Ming, Instructor, Computer Science
His Eyes Are On The Sparrow
Have you met the YU sparrow? She was created by Francisco ‘Chico’ Gouveia, a YU freshman and Business Administration major. One day Chico found an old, discarded cardboard box outside his dorm and got an idea. After six hours of cutting, gluing and eyeballing, the sparrow, was born. I named her Amia, which in Latin means ‘Beloved.’ Why did I choose that name? Because it reminded me of something Jesus once said to the people he cared about. He was trying to encourage and assure them how beloved they were to him and his Father. So, He asked them to consider the sparrow, a tiny, helpless bird of no real significance in the overall scheme of things. Yet, this plain, feathered creature had God’s watchful eye that would not allow this wee one to fall to the ground in harm. Then, Jesus reminded them, that if God took so much care of a little bird, didn’t it stand to reason how much more He would take care of his most Beloved? Then, he said, “So, don’t be afraid or worried. I’ve got you.” I love that story. Amia now nests in the ARC. Come by anytime to get acquainted. Thank you, Chico, for sharing your artistic flare with Unvarnished Words. ~ dc
Rain, Rage, Resilience and Revelation
“Just give it a chance, Jordan. This is going to be your home for the next four years.” My mother repeated that sentence many times throughout our 48-hour journey from our island home in Trinidad and Tobago to the cold, corn field-filled expanse of Nebraska. She wanted me to embrace the school she insisted I attend, in spite of my strong reluctance. I had said goodbye to the warm embrace that Trinidad always offered me, to begin my freshman year at a place that offered the Omaha opposite. I was determined to dislike Nebraska and would refuse to embrace my new “life” until I returned home.
We gathered our bags, at the Omaha airport and set off in search of food. No sooner had he gotten on our way, a noise erupted outside the car. Both of our phones received a warning notification at the same time, alerting us that a severe thunderstorm was approaching. We dismissed it because while dark clouds were all around us, it wasn’t raining. However, just four blocks away from the restaurant we had chosen, it felt as though we had driven into a hurricane. The rain pounded our car like stones. We drove for a few more blocks and found our way to a Taco Bell drive-through. Just as we arrived, a flash of bright light lit up the sky followed by complete darkness. A lightning bolt had just struck a power pole and power went out everywhere. Our dream of a warm meal was dashed and finding safety became our only concern. I spotted a supermarket across the way and a car taking shelter in front of it . My mother agreed that was the safest option for us as well.
As we sat in the car outside the store, my mother and I observed our surroundings for about ten minutes. We witnessed trees snapping in half, garbage bins, shopping carts and cones flying across the entire parking lot. Anger and sadness washed over me; I just wanted to eat and a place to sleep, so I could eventually wake from this nightmare. I snapped back into reality when I noticed a small lady, around 70 years old, inside of the supermarket signaling for us to come inside for refuge. Without a second thought, my mother immediately turned off the vehicle, and forced me to follow her into this store, disregarding my strong objections.
The lady took us straight into the back of the grocery to a storeroom. The pungent odor of dirt, rotten produce, and meat scents overwhelmed my senses. In this atrocious room, there were two young doctors, an elderly man, and a middle-aged woman along with her son, trying to find comfort in this unpleasant situation. I settled on a stack of six layered sacks of potatoes and began to read a book on my phone. Amazingly, I dozed off with my cheek resting in my palm and my arm propped against a nearby sink. I lost track of time until my mother gently tap my leg. Everyone in the room was leaving, our cue to leave as well.
We got back in the car and continued our journey. The sky was a bit lighter and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. As we drove along the interstate, we saw fallen trees and semis -trucks lying sideways on the ground. This mess immediately reminded me to thank God for His mercy and for keeping us safe throughout this ordeal. It could have been us in a flipped vehicle. How ungrateful and resentful I had been. I had been blinded by my immaturity and ignorance. I hadn’t grasped the danger that the storm held. This weather had the ability to take people’s lives, but we had persevered perfectly unscathed. The storm and its dangers had transformed me. I needed to not to take life for granted and be grateful for my privileges. I had been complaining about leaving my home for school, when many girls from my country were not able pursue an education.
The next morning, I woke in our Airbnb near the York University campus. The sky was a beautiful blue, almost cloudless. For the first time since leaving Trinidad, I decided to give Nebraska a chance. Since then, I’ve continued to be more and more comfortable in what was once a place I considered a chore, but it is now a place I consider my home.
~ Jordon Ollivierre, Freshman, Biology
Unexpected
“I’m not exactly sure what is wrong with you, but you need to get it together,” said my mother while I lazed on my bed.
“I do, Mama. School has been super stressful lately and work is hectic. Give me a break!” I answered. I could feel my insides tightening as guilt creeped in. I shut my eyes, as I held my breath. As soon as my mother walked away, I rapidly exhaled. I did not care how, but today, I was finally going to face what I had been dreading for weeks.
It was a Sunday evening. I debated missing work and using the frosty conditions outside as an excuse., I could see the fluffy snowflakes sliding down the glass window. My mother’s soft voice startled me as she asked if I was ready to go to work. Without answering, I set my feet on the ground and in slow motion started heading towards my room to look for my uniform. My arms felt weary as I bent down to put my pants over my legs. As I finished getting dressed, my emotions started to bombard me. I quickly gathered myself. Before darting out of my room, I took one last look in the mirror and grabbed the rest of my belongings.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I searched for my coworker, Maddie. She was a person I trusted and knew could help me. When I could not find her, I started to panic. It was important that I talked to her as soon as possible. I collected myself and went toward the other girls to start my shift. I pretended everything was okay while talking to them, but inside, I was struggling. The restaurant started to fill up table by table. As I poured drink after drink and took orders, I could feel my agitation dissipate a little. After about an hour, Maddie came in. I was so relieved to see her. Without greeting her, I told her, “I really need you to give me a ride to Walmart after work.” She looked puzzled, but didn’t ask any questions. She simply nodded.
Later, as we drove to the store, Maddie didn’t ask one question. Our trip to Walmart was filled with a silence that was so loud that I could hear my own thoughts screaming at me .I probably should have told her what was wrong, however, I was not thinking clearly. I sat in the passenger seat with my legs crossed and my hands on my lap. I could feel my nails digging inside my palms.
When we arrived, I got out of the car and jogged to the entrance. Maddie followed behind. My feet could not take me fast enough to the aisle where I would find what I came to buy. As I walked down the aisle, every step was full with fear of the unknown. I frantically searched the shelves until my eyes landed on the pregnancy test box. With shaky hands, I took hold of the test and walked in the direction of the cash register. As I stood in line, my right leg could not stop bouncing, a sign of anxiety. As soon as I paid, I went straight to the restroom. I could not wait any longer to find out my fate.
I did not have to tell Maddie what we were doing inside the bathroom. She could tell by my actions exactly what we had come to do. As I went inside the stall, I could feel the tiny space closing in on me. While I waited for the results, my mother floated through my mind.
“What am I going to tell her?” I asked myself. At this given point, I was not thinking about my own future. I was more worried about disappointing my mother, the woman who had sacrificed her whole life for me and my brother. She was the most important and vital person in my life. I knew that whatever the answer was, I was going to break her heart. Her dreams and hopes for me would shatter into pieces like a broken window.
The two minutes the instructions said to wait for the results, seemed to linger in the air. It felt like an eternity. When the two minutes passed, I closed my eyes and took a profound breath. I counted to ten and tried to mentally prepared myself. I opened my eyes and there it was, the answer I was so afraid to confirm: Positive.
I felt the whole world had come down crushing down on me. I started crying. I could not bring myself to stop staring at the results. I stood there consumed with fear of the unknown. I had to get out of there and figure out what I was going to do next. After embracing me, Maddie asked me if I was ready to go. On the way home, guilt ate at me as I went back and forth, between keeping this a secret, or telling my mother as soon as I got home. I knew I had to decide and I had to do it soon. Whatever I decided, it would change my relationship with my mother forever.
When we arrived outside my house, I steadied myself before opening the car door. I quickly said my goodbyes to Maddie and hugged her before getting out of the car. As I took the steps one by one, I could feel my heartbeat thumping one beat at a time. I was fighting with the idea to do the right thing or hold on to the disappointing news as long as I could. I entered my house and called for my mother. As soon as her sweet face appeared outside her bedroom door, I could not bear to let her down. The courage I had dissolved. It was then that I changed my mind and made the decision that I was going to keep this pregnancy a secret. I was going to hide it until I started to show.
~ Carla Montoya, YU student, NCCW
A Big Experience for a Small Girl
"Sit up straight and hold on tight because the Mamba is about to strike." I'll never forget the catchy mantra or the thrilling, high-pitched voice that blared it over the amusement park intercom system. I was eight years old, a petite 48-inches tall and finally able to ride the Mamba, the tallest and fastest rollercoaster in the entire park.
It all started the morning of our vacation, a vacation I dreamed about since I was younger. My family and I woke up excited that the weekend we spent all month planning for had finally arrived. Because we were scheduled to leave early, we didn't have time for a steaming hot breakfast, so tasty strawberry and brown sugar Pop Tarts and chewy chocolate chip and peanut butter granola bars made up our menus. The red and blue full-sized coolers that held our deli fresh turkey, ham, and bologna were also packed with sodas, endless flavors of fruity Capri-Sun, Ice Mountain spring water bottles and chocolate milk, courtesy of my royal request.
The suitcases that held our belongings were packed in the vehicle the night before. The only thing left to pack were the stuffed plastic grocery bags that held junk food, snacks and goodies that were sure to rot our teeth if we didn't keep up on our dental hygiene. Immediately after my grandfather finished packing the food in the trunk, I heard the loud cackle of my family's voices scream over one another's as they shouted out who they were going with. There were quite a few of us going on vacation and three vehicles were needed. While I would have loved to ride with my big brothers and sisters, who rode with our mom, my separation anxiety wouldn’t allow me to spread my wings and detour away from my grandparents.
The car ride was roughly three hours long, but for a child the distant drive felt never-ending. I blurting out the same redundant question, "Are we there yet, Grandpa?" and his response always being the same: "Almost, baby girl, but not yet." Even though, I actually loved the bathroom pit stops. The fun breaks at foreign gas stations had names I could barely pronounce, and all the scenery along the way was breathtaking.
We finally arrived at Worlds of Fun and Oceans of Fun, As we waited at one of the metal gates to enter the park, the hot sun caused mini beads of salty sweat to crept down my forehead. Through the gates I could see the tall winding waterslides, the crazy upside down rides that were tossing people in every direction, and the scariest green and black rollercoaster I had ever seen. I could hardly wait!
After hours of exploring this brand-new world, playing carnival games that seemed impossible to win, and indulging in over-priced carnival food, I finally found myself at the place that I had always dreamed of, the entry threshold of the Mamba. As my uncle and I waited in line, my big brown eyes were open wide, gazing at the fascinating work of construction in awe and sheer amazement. The shiny tracks were painted a bright, lime green. and towered over the park over two hundred feet. As we waited in line the intoxicating smell of funnel cakes and mixed-berry cotton candy wafted around us.
At first, the loud rattle and racket the 36-passenger wagon made clanging on the topsyturvy track was scary, but the laughter and squeals indicated nothing but profound joy.
When my uncle and I finally made it to the front of the crowded line, my little phalanges twiddled about like they were playing the finest piece on the flute, and the anticipation caused me to bob about uncontrollably. I had waited all my life for that one thrilling moment and now, here it was. I was riding my first big-girl rollercoaster just like my grandfather had promised me so many years before. I looked for him in the crowd watching for his caring eyes. When I found him, I flashed him a reassuring grin to let him know I’d be fine.
The exiting passengers beamed with joy telling of their phenomenal ride. My only hope was that at 75 mph the ride would be more fun than scary. After all, I was a small girl who weighed no more than 65 pounds. Finally, it was our turn. My uncle allowed me to step onto the ride before him. We sat towards the front. I was scared, but not enough to chicken out. As we sat down on the hard steel seat, I looked up at my uncle, searching for the same safe reassurance my grandfather always offered me when I needed it. Although I found my uncle's version of reassurance comforting, it still was nothing like the reassurance my grandfather could give.
When my uncle sat down next to me, he fastened our seatbelt and pulled a cushioned metal bar down over the lower half of our bodies. Despite the overly hyper-active nerves dancing in the pit of my stomach, my uncle's warm body next to mine made me feel ready to experience this new thrill. I don't know if my excitement stemmed from the Mamba or from my satisfaction of knowing I was growing up. Perhaps it was an intense, balanced mixture of both.
In the blink of an eye, I heard that high-pitched warning, “...the Mamba is about to strike!” Before I could catch my breath, the Mamba took off, filling me with a tsunami of emotions. As we climbed to the top, I stared down at the park guests who looked like ants from 200 feet in the air. I was soaring like an eagle as the rollercoaster glided about. The warm winds blew in my face as the rollercoaster abruptly whipped and dipped up and down. But, the most prominent emotion I remember was the sheer joy. I was living a childhood dream.
When my ride on the Mamba concluded, I exited and ran straight into the strong arms of the man who made it possible for me experience such a life-changing event. "I did it grandpa! I rode my first big girl rollercoaster just like you promised I would,"
He held me close like a second skin. "You did it, baby girl. Just like I promised you would," he said.
The vacation was never just about fun. It was never just about growing up either. The vacation was about one small promise that stood for something bigger. It illustrated the significance of something so miniscule the promised an out-of-this-world experience. Fortunately for me, this vacation was one of many memories that made it easy for me to reflect on this fact. Now, as a mother, every time I watch my own son live his life, I know that big blessings come in tiny packages just like the heavy weight of a simple promise.
~Brittianee Bates, YU student, NCCW
Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him and he began to teach them saying:
‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted You are the salt of the earth
You are the light of the world... I have not come to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it…
Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…
But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your father, who is unseen
Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name… Give us today our daily bread…
Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself…
Ask and it will be given; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.’
~ Sermon on the Mount- deb cleveland
The mission of
York University is to transform lives through Christ-centered education and to equip students for lifelong service to God, family, and society.
