The sound of my beat up Converse reverberated through the large empty halls. As an incoming sophomore, the next three years were a chapter that I couldn’t write fast enough. I wanted it over. Quickly.

The sun burned against my skin and the wind whipped my flag on the warm mornings of early week. While I despised the monotony of the routine, I would give anything to march again.

Your laughter of joy and panic caused your eyebrows to furrow while we were caught with far more than five items in the Goodwill dressing room. It’s funny how adventures with you often ended with us getting caught.

The hammock creaked and giggles sounded till the sunset after stressful mock exams. You always had a way of calming my nerves after a stressful day.

Old paintings I’ve seen a hundred times before shine under yellow lights as we slowly walked along. It’s funny how the art spoke more to me when you were at my side than ever before.

Your voice sounded over the gentle swing beat of decades past while the trees sped by on the highway. Between your rusted old bug and your mid-century modern house, you have your future all planned out, something I hope to be a part of.

Vibrations of the bus shook my tired limbs on long choir trips to Nashville, Conway, Hot Springs and more. You never mind the distance however with you I minded it less.

Your advice sunk in while I sat in the beat-up chair in your office. Your words have often worked as guidance when I was utterly lost.

The ping of a text notification sounded over the drip of my IV. I saw your name and knew your words of support would get me through the day. You somehow knew what I need to hear and when this time was no exception.

Often people admit that their biggest fear is to be forgotten but the truth is that everyone is. Seven million people live in the world and although some stars seem important now in 10-20 years their name is just something remembered in a quick conversation before forgotten once again. Me? I don’t want to be forgotten.

But the reality is that it’s time I look towards the future instead of the safety of the past. My heart is heavy with the memories of love, pain, and peace that I have learned over my time at Har-Ber. I fear being forgotten, not by this school, but by the people in it, the people who have changed my life.

People are in our lives for the season we need them most, but as I look into the future, I’m not sure I am ready for this season to be over yet. The school that I once thought I was so ready to leave, has become a home to me and so many others. A home is not a building with brick walls but instead a group of people who love and accept you the way you are.

I look back at the teachers I have had at Har-Ber. Although some of them I found to be trying, they all taught me something about life that I hold dear, and to them I could not express my thankfulness more.

To my friends who have changed my life, I can honestly say that I would not be here if it weren’t for you. When times are rough, you have always helped me forget the trials and remember the joy that can still be felt.

My parents, who have done nothing but love and support me, have been everything I needed and so much more. Teaching me how to live a life but also one to enjoy, I feel prepared to go out into the world and live a successful life knowing that you have my back.

Most importantly I am thankful for a God that has been my rock throughout all things and that has taught me that all things work together for good for those who love and worship him.

Walking through the halls for a final time, my converse will be replaced with the confident click of heels. My cap and gown will make me feel small under its weight. I think of the chapter that will be entitled Har-Ber. Will it be the best chapter? No. Far from it. But it is one that I will be thankful to have written.