Day of Thanks in the Student Union

To Parents, Teachers, Friends, and Donors – Thank You

Written by Klara Holscher

I trotted into the Student Union Thursday afternoon intending to grab a study spot, cram for twenty minutes, and run to a meeting before hustling to lunch (if the meeting didn’t go late) and showing up at my American Lit class with two minutes to spare.

College life the week before Thanksgiving Break would be like one really long run-on sentence of last-minute meetings and assignments if the Student Activities Board and 1844 Society didn’t conspire together to insert a dash of gratitude into our lives.

Thanks to them, I entered the Union and found myself in a festive atmosphere where students sat together at long tables writing thank-you notes to those who make their education possible. Oh, right, I remembered suddenly. The Day of Thanks. I’m supposed to draft an article on that by tomorrow.

Twenty minutes of studying wouldn’t really amount to much anyway, so, plans suddenly rearranged, I grabbed a pen and a few cards and sat myself down to jot off that gratitude. Scribble. Scribble. Check. Check. I’d be done just in time for my meeting.

I wrote three cards and popped them in the box, only to go back and write four more when my meeting was cancelled. I had to leave for class, but I came back later in the afternoon and saw students stacking six, seven, eight envelopes in front of them.

The inner coil of anxiety that keeps students running at such a frantic pace seemed to relax as we paused to remember why we have the chance to be here. Sure, the mellow tones of Frank Sinatra wafting down the halls and the cups of free coffee added to the cheery mood, but there was a real reluctance to leave that went beyond caffeine addictions. The funny thing about thankfulness is, when we actually take time to express gratitude, we remember an increasing list of people who have impacted our lives.

I saw friends writing not only to donors, but to parents, teachers, and roommates.

“I just want her to know how much I appreciate her,” one girl said of her roommate. “I couldn’t think of a better person to enter freshman year with.”

“How should I say this?” another friend asked. “How do I express this to my mom?”

How do we find the words to encompass the sacrifice, love, wisdom, and patience that so many have poured out to make us who we are? We probably never do find the words, but it is a worthwhile pursuit.

Klara HolscherKlara Holscher, ‘17, is an English Major from Hobart, New York. She possesses a quirky sense of humor, an orange car, and a terrible sense of direction. It remains to be seen whether or not these elements will lead to a career in writing, but regardless, they should afford some amusement along the way.