Reaching Up

Photo by The Youngrens

 Yesterday as I pulled up to the first stop light on my way to work, I watched 18-year-olds pull luggage across the street to a smallish square plot of brick,

 brick surrounded by buildings that reach up to join the rest of Chicago in the sky.

As I sat in my car waiting for the light to turn, my rearview mirror all of the sudden became prominent and I saw my own feet hit that brick plaza for the first time nine years ago.

I moved to Chicago nine years ago for college to study at Moody Bible Institute.

I have to smile at that girl and the day she brought her bags to Chicago.

I try to find her mind that day.

I have to smile at the places outside of her consciousness that surrounded her on every side.

He was there that day.

 These streets, these dailies, these iconic landmarks-turned life landmarks were staring back at her, unrecognized.

The same sidewalks that would stand beneath me for the next decade as I learned to stand on my own, they were there.

I look at this photo with the buildings reaching up behind, with him, and I smile at that girl, for that girl, with that girl.

And then the light turned green.