On the morning that we got the heaviest snow of the season, I finally ripped off the insolation on my window that my dad layered to make my room warmer. His intention was nobel, and I deeply appreciated his effort, especially on those cold freezing nights, but I always missed the view and the openness. Recently, it got to where I stopped hanging out in my own room.

The storm from the south is finally here, piling up at least a foot of snow on the ground. Cars are buried, and my small Volkswagen sedan is nowhere to be seen. It’s somewhere under the snow covered blanket, and if I don’t remember where I parked, I won’t be able to locate my car until the snow is well gone. My mom is off for the day thanks to the snow, and so, it’s my coughing dad recovering from his bad cold, my work-loving mom that I never get to see anymore, and me. The three of us in this little condo on the third floor enjoying the beautiful snowy view from above this morning. And I thought, it’s time to unveil my windows.

Life can be so funny. One moment, you feel as if you will never be able to walk out of the dark tunnel you are placed in. ‘How did I get here? How did I fall into this sink hole, again?’ You do what you can, while you wait out, sometimes patiently, sometimes desperately, and then you get so hopeless that all the efforts come to a complete stop. Giving up? Maybe. Calling it quits? But I did my best. This is as far as I can go. I’m hopeless, helpless, desperate, and this ceaseless agony is wreaking havoc on my soul. I am thirsty, but not for water. I am thirsty for hope.

But then, just as night turns into day overnight, life is back to normal. Some new challenges surface, a new opportunities appear, and like a big helping hand, they descend down through the sink hole to to grab you, to pull you out of your darkness, out of your helpless misery. And just like that, life resumes again. You, then, realize, that it was all about waiting. It was all about clinging to the rope of life to your best ability until the help arrives. It was all about believing.

Yesterday, I said my final goodbye to my long coffee shop career that ended without a coffee shop of my own brand. Maybe my shop will come down the road. I haven’t given up that hope. But for now, I have decided to walk on a new path that opened up during my long dark waiting hours. It came like the salvation light that suddenly lighted up my black sky. It rescued me from falling back into that unending vortex of hopelessness. It showed me the way out. Surrounded by my innocent students at the preschool where I work, my whole day goes by laughing with them, teaching and feeding them, and playing with them. And it feels so good to serve them. I feel so blessed to have this new life.

At preschool, life is always overflowing. Children grow up, children dream during their nap times, children are so eager to learn more, to play more, and to laugh more. They run to me and hug me without any notice. I am startled by their pure expression of love that knows no boundary. At preschool, I learn about life all over again. Every day is a new day with new activities, new lessons, and new lunches. But one thing that never changes there is that every day, you get to love. Every day is a school of love at the preschool.

And life should be that way.

Then we will never get sick.

We will never have to walk down the path of darkness.

Until Love comes in the name of Jesus to surround us, and envelope us completely, I am blessed to say, that I have my beloved students at the preschool to share that Love that comes from God.

“But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Allow little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” – Luke 18:16