This morning I found a letter that my Literature teacher asked me to write on January 7th, 2012 - my junior year of High School. It had then been sealed and tucked away until the end of my Senior Year.
Dear Brooke,
As I'm writing this I can't help but think about time. How slowly it passes; how quickly it leaves. Eight months. That's how long you have before you head to college. Eight months to play three-man baseball with your brothers. Eight months to play Dominion with the family. Eight months of Mom's delicious cooking. Eight months to grow even closer to those you love before you have to leave them.
. . . I can't wait for eternity. Nothing here lasts long enough. I want a dance that doesn't end when the music stops. I want time to think uninterrupted thoughts, moments measured by their worth and not a clock, and a hug that lasts as long as the love between two hearts . . .
. . . I'm setting my course for BYU to study Language Arts, rhetoric, psychology, law, or whatever else opens up to me, but most of all, one thing's for sure: I will serve a mission and I hope to one day meet the man I want to be with for eternity and raise a family. It's not so far off as it seems . . .
. . . Work hard, love without limits, and remember to forgive yourself. You are a daughter of God, capable of remarkable feats. You are loved. And you are never alone.
Yours, Brooke
Looking back, my words seem almost prophetic. Two years later, one thing remains the same - time passes too quickly. I'm enrolled in two dance classes and I'm here to tell you that the dance still ends when the music stops.
Coming to BYU I still wasn't certain what to major in. Of course, most Freshman aren't, but I sure wanted to be. My problem is I don't seem to be any better at English than I am at Physics, Biology, Calculus and Chemistry, and I love both fields of knowledge. How was I to chose between them? As I was signing up for classes I realized it was the Literature and English classes that really had me excited, but I still didn't declare an English major. At least, not yet. I suppose I was waiting for a surer sign, not realizing it doesn't get much more obvious than that.
"Follow your heart." I'm sure you've heard it many times, to the point that it's on the verge of cliche, but there is so much truth and wisdom in this piece of counsel I received from my mother and friend, for looking back, I can see that while my head was engaged in furious debates, my heart had always been set. Junior year was the year I took physics. And I loved it. Yet, I made no mention of it in my letter among the list of things I wanted to study at BYU. You could say I had known all along, and just had no idea that I'd known.
The first week of classes when I entered the Humanities building I felt like I had come home. There's no other way to describe it. And my one class in the science building felt . . . wrong.
Two weeks into the semester I declared an English Major with a Writing and Rhetoric minor. I considered my course set. By the end of the semester I had made up my mind. I wanted to be a Professor of Literary Criticism. Naturally then, I wanted to take the class called Writing Literary Criticism. I wanted it more than anything. I even rearranged my schedule a couple times to be sure I would have room for it. Well, it was a week before the second semester would start and I was still sitting on the wait list. A couple nights later I got an email telling me that the wait list was being dropped and there would be no add codes. I was devastated. How was I to find a class to fill that spot with only a couple days left before school started? By now, most of the classes I needed would be full. On a whim, I decided to add Intro the English Language, the first prerequisite for the Editing Minor. I hadn't chosen it for the editing minor, I didn't even think I really wanted to be an editor. I chose it because it could fulfill an elective for the English Major.
It's incredible to me that when I wasn't able to get in to Writing Literary Criticism I saw it as a great hinderance to the path I was sure I should be on. I saw it as a closed door. But where God closes a door, he opens a window.
My first semester at BYU I had wanted to join the editing staff for one of the student journals, but was unable to. Through my Intro to the English Language class I was able to join three journals and get credit for them. As Intro to the the English Language quickly became one of my favorite classes, I began to seriously consider the Editing Minor, but I still wasn't certain I wanted to be an editor, or even whether or not it was something I could enjoy.
One day I was sitting at my desk, preparing to begin my first editing assignment for the student journals. Ever seen someone really sick or someone with a terrible headache attempt to do homework? Or have you ever been faced with a calculus problem you just didn't even know how to begin? Well, that was me. I didn't know how to begin.
As I was sitting there staring at my assignment a friend from across the hall, Laura, came in. "Brooke," she said, "Raechel is applying to the music education program and has to write a couple essays for it. She was telling me that she needs someone to help her edit them and your name came to mind. Would you be able to help her?" I was flattered, but that's not to say I wasn't also apprehensive and a bit nervous. I'd edited papers for people before, but I had a feeling this was to be a little more involved, and I felt so inadequate. Nevertheless, I agreed to give it my best shot.
The necessary corrections came easily to me and though it was difficult and time-consuming I actually enjoyed it, and not to sound too conceited, but I was pretty darn good at it too.
Of course, I still have a lot to learn, but nothing that the editing minor can't teach me.
Candidly,
Cookie
