Kindred Spirits

It takes me a long time to process things. And with so much to do, there isn't usually time. I sit down to do homework and if I am not sufficiently resolved to get it done, my mind wonders off and I start processing the little unimportant events of the day.

I don't know which is harder; to find a friend or to be a friend. Sometimes I'm pretty sure it's harder to find someone who speaks your language. But then, once you find someone, you begin to learn the limits of your mutual understanding. It is hard not to give up when you find out that they don't understand the really important parts. So you have to learn where those places are that your friend wont go with you. It is truly a gift when you find someone who understands all the important things.


I love chestnuts. I see them on the ground in the sunlight among the grass and golden leaves and they beg to be picked up and carried with me. It's hard to explain it to people who don't understand. They are such a rich color and they feel smooth and heavy in my hand.

This week one of my new friends showed me her pocketful of chestnuts as if they were treasures. This pleased me very much. There are lots of chestnut trees in my neighborhood. There are not so many on campus. Amy found hers off campus, far away. She hoarded them in her sweatshirt pocket and made plans for what she was going to do with them. They would be useful for decorating, or as a learning tool for us tactile people who have to play with something in order to concentrate. They are just nice to have; as many as you can carry. She understood, but not quite the same way. I would never use a multitude of chestnuts to decorate. For me, there can only be one chestnut at a time, enjoyed for it's own sake, just all by itself.

Walking to the music building I found a chestnut all alone in the gutter. At first it was a pleasant, but unimportant coincidence. Then I realized that it had to come from somewhere, other than Amy's pocket. I found the mother tree across the street, right next to the music building. I pocketed just one chestnut of a particularly enchanting pattern and color and continued with the business of being a student. Only in my pocket I have this small round treasure. Now and then I curl my fingers around it and smile. I've picked up things like this since I was very small. And I always want to share them.

Chelsea is in two of my music classes. She is a freshmen so she is eager to make friends. She makes an effort to be my friend, talking and hanging out with me. I am really glad because it's nice to have a friend in class. Sometimes I think we will never be friends because we don't speak the same language at all. Chelsea is a bit cynical. She has given up childish things, but not the fear of seeming childish. She took on a mocking tone when I found a book of Winnie the Pooh songs in the music library. Then she was a bit shocked when she realized that I was genuinely excited about it. Maybe I'll loosen her up yet.
She didn't understand the chestnut.
Was I going to roast it, over an open fire? (You can hear the sarcasm dripping.) No? Why was I carrying it around? What is so special about it? Isn't it just like every other chestnut?

In the sunlight, all the beautiful colors and the tiny pattern of light and dark brown glow. And it's nice to touch, because it's smooth. There is a tiny dip in mine. A flaw? No! It makes it more unique and beautiful. She shakes her head and smiles condescendingly. I gave up.

There is a girl in my English class who is very cheerful and kind... I don't remember her name. There is also a girl in my art class and in choir named Bernadette who has a similar air of simplicity and joy. I found out they are sisters. That makes so much sense. They make me feel safe without feeling little. There was a camp counselor... or someone like that. I can't think who exactly they remind me of. They are both people I would love to get to know better.

Something told me that Bernadette would understand about chestnuts. So when choir was setting up chairs and chatting about Sunday's concert, I jumped up and ran over to where Bernadette sits. I gave her the chestnut. She cupped her hands and took it with an exclamation of awe and delight. "A gift for me? It's so beautiful," she whispered. I knew we were kindred spirits.