You’re the reason why I started this “Letters for 2015” project in the first place. I was going through my mail and I found our exchange of letters. Can you say, nostalgic?
I miss those days when I had all the time in the world to write, write, write, and be caught up in wonder. Remember the lake in UKM? What did we name that again?
I’m trying to think if anything whimsical happened to me this past week. Well, my car broke down. That’s hardly full of magic. Hmm. I got inked! But you already know that – you were one of the first people who did. Well, I’m reading “The King’s Damsel”. I’m lost in the Tudor court right now. It’s a stuffy, old-fashioned place. But I feel things will get more exciting after a few chapters more.
We don’t write to each other anymore but I know the connection is still there. Isn’t it amazing? How we have this bond forged by words shared through the miracle (is it?) that is the Internet. I’m thankful I have found a kindred spirit in you.
I look forward to having Froyo again with you. Or pesto and then some hot choco. This time I’ll be careful not to tip the table over and spill things accidentally.
We are crossing over. Many seasons have come and gone and now we are again at that point of crossing over.
I am amazed at what God is doing here. It really all just boils down to faith, hope, and love. Faith in Him and His faithfulness. Hope that keeps on finding the silver lining in every cloud, hope that keeps on waiting for the rainbow after every storm. Love for God, love for people, and love in all the things we do. We don’t know what will happen after all these, but as long as faith, hope, and love remains, we’ll be so much more than okay.
Let us enjoy the season we are in right now. Let us enjoy this sense of newness, this excitement, this childlike expectancy in our hearts. For behold, the God of wonders is moving. He is moving in the hearts of the broken. He is moving in the hearts of the proud. He is moving in us. He is moving through us.
You wait little girl on an empty stage, for fate to turn the light on. Your life little girl is an empty page that men will want to write on… To write on… You are sixteen going on seventeen, baby it’s time to think. Better beware be canny and careful, baby you’re on the brink. (Sixteen Going on Seventeen, The Sound of Music)
I have begun this letter with a song because I know that is how your brain ticks. Your default reaction is to respond (in your mind, rarely out loud) with song. Don’t worry, that’s what makes you unique. It will come in handy, too, when you start song leading.
So… What does 25-year-old Mari have to say to you? Well, you’re going to start college this year, little girl. You’re life is going to change dramatically. You will meet a lot of great, interesting people. And, I won’t spoil it for you — but you will meet the one, but you won’t realize it because you’ll spend some time hung up on some other one. Or ones. But you will write a memorable one-liner about the one. And you’ll surprise yourself when you go back on that entry nine years later.
Gah, I said I wouldn’t spoil it for you. Anyway.
Like I said, your life will take a significant 180 degree turn. You will never be the same again. And that’s good. Because I know what you did last summer. Kidding. But I do. I’m you.
Anyway, girl, I just want to tell you to loosen up. Don’t try to please people too much. Don’t put so much unnecessary pressure on yourself, too. CMSC 11 will turn out fine. It’s CMSC 150 that you have to worry about. But hey, you’re still going to graduate with flying colors. So much flying colors that the electricity will go out. You’ll make the Centennial Graduation memorable, darling.
Don’t stop reading books. Don’t stop writing. Don’t stop doodling — oh are those anime characters I see in your Math 1 handouts? Tsk, tsk, tsk, you should pay more attention to your teachers — one day, you are going to be a teacher, too.
You won’t always be as level-headed and pulled-together as you want to make yourself out to be. See how crazy and disorganized this letter is? This is already the 25-year-old you talking, deary.
With that, I’m going to end with this: don’t be afraid to be Mari. It will take you some time to grasp that. I’m still trying to absorb and apply it even now. But that is what I shall leave you with.
Some words of wisdom, huh?
You’ll turn out fine.
Hugsies (Not that you’ll really bring yourself to say “hugsies” in real life),
25-year-old Mari
I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist, 16-year-old Mari. Teehee.
scribbles and stories 