A long time ago in a land far away, the internet had yet to be invented and very few people even had a computer. Communicating in writing was more involved back then. Letters between individuals were generally hand-written, and one had to address an envelop, find a stamp, and walk the letter to the nearest post office box. In my case, luckily, that was no farther than the lobby of my dorm at college, where I dutifully went every day in the hope that I’d have mail waiting.
And so it was that I received an envelope one day, containing several pages of hand-written script. It was from my best friend from high school. We had grown up together in South Florida, where the only season was summer and the only weather was hot and humid. He was a college freshman in Georgia, whereas I was attending a school in Texas.
As I walked up the stairs to my fourth-floor room, I tore into the envelop as I would a care package from my parents, eager to see what news awaited. Was he pledging a fraternity? Was he doing well in school? Was he as homesick as I was?
I don’t recall that much of the content of the letter all these years later. What I do remember, though, like it was yesterday, was the beautiful leaf he had carefully pressed between the pages. It was bright red with tinges of yellow. So unlike the palm trees we had both grown up with. Despite its being an omen of impending winter and the bare landscape to come – or perhaps because of it – it was stunningly beautiful. I remembered turning the stem in my hands to examine it from all directions.
Then it occurred to me: he and I were at similar latitudes, so the leaves on my campus must be changing, too! I looked out the window, and sure enough, the trees were magnificent. There were pale golds, darker ambers, bright reds, and dull browns. How long has this been going on? I wondered. Somehow, I had been too busy studying to notice. I had also been too busy studying to eat well and sleep enough.
Of course college is time-consuming; law school, even more so. But to walk back and forth to classes several times a day and not notice anything other than that I now needed a coat was ridiculous. I resolved to change my ways and enjoy life a bit more, while not slacking off on my studying.
It was be wonderful if that were the end of the story. Alas, I wasn’t that quick back in those days. I kept studying more hours than I should, not eating well, and not sleeping nearly enough. I didn’t know it at the time, but when I received that letter I was mere weeks away from strep throat. And in February came the mononucleosis that would keep me sick for five months.
School, I learned, is more closely akin to a marathon than a sprint. It requires tremendous stamina and sustained good health. Years later, when I was in law school, one of our professors told us that we had to “Study, study, study, study, study, eat a little bit and sleep occasionally.” Fortunately, I knew that therein lay, if not madness, at least a greatly increased risk of illness.
Today, I try to pace myself better. I avoid eating food from a window as much as possible. I will not settle for less than seven hours of sleep a night – at least not for more than one night in a row. And I take time to notice the natural beauty all around me.
I can still see that leaf in my mind’s eye. My high school best friend went on to medical school, whereas I went to law school. Just today, I was noticing the splendid colors in my next door neighbor’s tree. I wonder if my pal continues to notice, too, in between his patients. I hope so.
