Love Letter Found: Southern Oregon University. 12-9-13.

  As I was walking to my office, I found this yellow envelope on a staircase. Written on it was “For you, yes you, whoever you are.” I looked around– no one was around. I contemplated whether or not I should take it– should I leave it for a student? I assume the person who left it, assumed a student would pick it up. I’m a student, yes, but not here at Southern Oregon University. I worried that taking it might be dishonest, or somehow traitorous. On the other hand, I’m exactly the kind of person who appreciates these kinds of things… and my curiosity was at an all-time high. I’ve also been in dire need of a friend, and thought maybe this was the friend I’ve been searching for. So I picked up the yellow envelope and stuffed it into my bag before anyone could see me. It felt like a private experience, something that would be ruined if someone else saw…or maybe I just knew I’d be embarrassed if someone else saw me take it. I came into my office and closed the door- the university opened late due to the snow- they probably would’ve closed, but it’s finals week. I opened the envelope, which was sealed with a little black heart, penned in fountain ink. Inside were little scraps of paper with things like “You Got This Dear” and other words of encouragement written by someone who prints in all capitals. There was a small letter too, written on what seems to be a piece of a brown paper bag– it talked about this week being hard, but that it wouldn’t define me. I’m sure they were talking about finals, but it hit me much deeper than that. I sat with all the pieces of ripped paper out on my desk and just looked at them all for a few moments. I heard the door click, which meant someone else was coming into the office, so I shuffled them up and quickly put the envelope back in my bag, stuffed in my desk drawer. Again, I didn’t want to ruin the reverence of thing by having someone else see the yellow envelope in my possession. I keep opening the drawer every few minutes and pulling out one of the scraps that says “It is okay to not know all the answers.” I sigh with relief, and close the drawer.

 

As I was walking to my office, I found this yellow envelope on a staircase. Written on it was “For you, yes you, whoever you are.” I looked around– no one was around. I contemplated whether or not I should take it– should I leave it for a student? I assume the person who left it, assumed a student would pick it up. I’m a student, yes, but not here at Southern Oregon University. I worried that taking it might be dishonest, or somehow traitorous.

On the other hand, I’m exactly the kind of person who appreciates these kinds of things… and my curiosity was at an all-time high. I’ve also been in dire need of a friend, and thought maybe this was the friend I’ve been searching for.

So I picked up the yellow envelope and stuffed it into my bag before anyone could see me. It felt like a private experience, something that would be ruined if someone else saw…or maybe I just knew I’d be embarrassed if someone else saw me take it.

I came into my office and closed the door- the university opened late due to the snow- they probably would’ve closed, but it’s finals week. I opened the envelope, which was sealed with a little black heart, penned in fountain ink. Inside were little scraps of paper with things like “You Got This Dear” and other words of encouragement written by someone who prints in all capitals. There was a small letter too, written on what seems to be a piece of a brown paper bag– it talked about this week being hard, but that it wouldn’t define me. I’m sure they were talking about finals, but it hit me much deeper than that.

I sat with all the pieces of ripped paper out on my desk and just looked at them all for a few moments. I heard the door click, which meant someone else was coming into the office, so I shuffled them up and quickly put the envelope back in my bag, stuffed in my desk drawer. Again, I didn’t want to ruin the reverence of thing by having someone else see the yellow envelope in my possession.

I keep opening the drawer every few minutes and pulling out one of the scraps that says “It is okay to not know all the answers.” I sigh with relief, and close the drawer.