It’s early Sunday morning and I’m sitting in the “parlor” of the dorm I lived in my first year in college some 40 years ago.
I’ve just spent the weekend at my college — a small, women’s liberal arts college in south central PA. I loved going there. I might have had a better academic advisor, given that i wound up with a degree in french education, and let’s be clear, I was never going to be a french teacher. But I couldn’t have had a better home for my growing soul.
I graduated in a very small class. Although we may not have all been best of friends while we were here, we knew one another, no escaping that. Through the years, when I’ve been in the right place, I’ve come back to celebrate. In the process, I’ve become better acquainted with everyone’s story. And along the way, we’ve all come to love one another. It’s pretty spectacular, when you think about it.
We’re women who care, about one another, certainly, but also about our lives and about the world. We care a lot about women’s education and are sorrowing that the college seems to have drifted into co-education without a by your leave. In a world where women’s lives are on the line, I believe in the power of women’s education. But that’s probably another day’s musing. Today, I’m under the gun to get home for church and then Bill-Town Blues. What a rich and privileged life I lead.
Love, Peace, and a great slow, summer Sabbath. Sweet music to you, my dears!