Colors of My Life
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2022-12-01 20:03:08 (UTC)

Season of Gratitude

This year’s winter came later than expected. The temperature dropped but raised again and I had to put my winter jacket back in the closet.

But finally, winter came and slapped our unprepared faces. Yesterday, everyone wore denim jackets and sweaters; but today, we wear the parka coats that lay miserably in our closets all year.

Accustomed to the seasons of comfort and pleasure, it’s hard to imagine the exact feeling of winter. But when winter’s footsteps mark the ground, the sudden temperature change is familiar. Especially when winter is such a vibrant and eventful season. There is no other season that brings everyone together like winter. The coldness makes our bodies shake and we look toward each other for comfort. Winter, as chilly and bitter as it is, softens our stone-cold hearts. We no longer retain the fierce walls we built between each other and embrace, hoping together, we will find the warmth to shield ourselves against the bitter cold.

Winter makes us grateful. Winter transforms the dark, merciless rooms into places of hope, comfort, and happiness. When we run from the wild trees and hard pavements to the little classrooms, we sign in happiness because we know that we have found the comfort our hearts wishes for. When we put our hands in front of the heater, a wave-like sensation of gratitude overcomes us.

The sensations of winter catch onto me like a dream I once had. The blurriness of the dream falls away as I experience winter in all its detail and greatness. I remember this dream because it cut into my heart like no other season. Every time I run onto my bus with the tips of my fingers frozen, I remember it deeper. But it also forced me to focus on the little things. The things that I never considered before. And it makes me feel grateful that they exist.

So, every time winter appears, my winter-related memories come back to me and I am relieved. In the ever-changing and fast world I live in, things rarely stay the same. Dear companions leave me to pursue their dreams in the wide, unpredictable world. Meanwhile, the classmates I laughed with yesterday are no longer beside me.

But winter tells me that the world is not changing as fast as I think. It tells me amiss the chaos and noise of the bright world, some things stay the same. The albums I listened to on the bus in 7th grade. They will never change. And every morning when I draw the curtains, the light brightens the world like yesterday.

So, when I sit on the bus and see the clear, blue sky, I know I will be all right.