I think that I shall never see…

It was one of those days: two midterm exams in a row, and to top it off, both were in the same classroom. I was in my first year at Princeton and very anxious about taking my first graduate exams. Between exams, I decided to forgo lunch and remain in the classroom to do some extra studying. It was tedious studying for church history; names, dates, and places started to run together in my mind as I crammed in the large, empty room. My mind and eyes began to wander…and I let them go. I took in the autumn scenery of the campus. The ivy walls, lunchtime voices, and treasure chest of autumn trees took me from my notebook and to the large windows. As I surveyed the Princeton landscape, I noticed one golden maple tree in particular. It was perfect. Each golden leaf was brighter than the next, and together they created a solid ball of autumn gold. I quickly searched the campus for a more beautiful tree, but could not find one that measured up to that golden maple. I stood at the window admiring God’s handiwork, wishing I had felt so at ease during my first exam. Then a smile slowly spread across my face, which quickly turned into laughter.

“That’s my tree!” I said. “It’s in my backyard!” My voice echoed through the classroom. The golden maple was in the backyard of my apartment on Alexander Street, about a block away. It was my tree!

I felt great, ready to take whatever exam the professor threw at me. I turned to go back to my seat in the empty classroom—which was no longer empty. Five classmates were staring at me. But I walked back to my chair with a smile on my face and confidence in my step, not caring what they thought of me—because I had the most beautiful golden maple tree in Princeton right in my own backyard.

submitted by Keith M. Curran, Class of 1981