One of the things I despise most is crying in front of others. Not the, “Aww, the dog died in the movie,” type of cry. The real kind. When your heart aches. And the hot tears running down your cheeks are the result of that hurt for all to see. The kind of cry that soaks your pillow at night and leaves trails of mascara where a river once ran. There are many words to describe it: sobbing, blubbering, wailing… But as I sat in math, it took all of my focus and willpower to mold my face into a serene mask – Void of all emotion, like a porcelain doll. No hint to the raging downpour of fear and helplessness inside of me. Silence ruled over me; for if I opened my mouth to utter a sound, the tremble in my words and the crack in my voice would give me away. Each and every person reaches this point at least once in their lifetime. We all just take a different route getting there. I was in the third grade, and I felt like my life was falling apart.

            “Emily,” a voice said. I felt the soft brush of familiar fabric on my face. I opened my eyes to see one of my favorite stuffed friends. A small grey elephant. The creases in his plush were reflective of his age. I have had him since I was a baby. I looked up to the hand holding Ellie.

“Dad?” I questioned. Hints of sleepiness crept into my voice.

            He continued to move the elephant’s trunk as if Ellie was the one disturbing my slumber. “It’s time to get up and get ready for school.” He made a trumpeting noise and left my room gently shutting the door behind him.

            I swung my feet out of bed, landing on the soft carpet of my room. I looked to my dresser where my clothes that I had laid out the night before waited patiently for me to put them on. My navy polo and knit skirt were at the bottom of my list of favorite clothes to wear but I didn’t really have a choice. I smoothed out the sun logo on the left-hand side of the shirt. It read, Imagine School of Land O’ Lakes. I grabbed my hairbrush and began to tackle the bird’s nest that sat atop my head. As I was methodically brushing my hair, my thoughts of the morning caught up with me. Having my dad wake me up was something fun and exciting until I remembered the reason my mom couldn’t. She was far away in Virginia with my relatives there waiting for… No, I can’t think about that; not yet anyway.

            I slowly crept out of my room, surprised to see my sister, already awake, and standing just outside my room. Ansley was wearing her favorite lilac dress. I completely understood why it was her favorite; it was purple and it twirled. That’s better than birthday cake to a five-year-old. Her curly mane closely resembled a lion’s. Her dark curly hair starkly contrasted my blonde stick straight hair.

            “Emily, guess what!” she exclaimed excitedly.

            “What is it?” I asked.

            She grabbed my hand pulling me out of the hallway and into our kitchen. “Daddy is making pancakes!” She threw her hands up; a grin overtaking her face. “And” she leaned in closer to whisper to me. “He’s putting chocolate chips in them.”

            “Really!” We never got pancakes on a school day. Much less ones with chocolate chips. We plopped down at the kitchen table with a steaming stack of pancakes. The warm chocolatey smell wafting into my nose made my stomach grumble in response. Finally, my dad sat down at the table putting one last pancake on top of the already leaning tower.

            “Can I pray?” Ansley asked eagerly. Her eyes darted towards my dad, asking for the go ahead. He nodded his head, and she clasped her tiny hands together. She bowed her head and began to talk. “Dear God. Thank you for this day and these yummy yummy yummy pancakes. Please pray for Poppy and that his surgery goes well and that the doctors do good. Please pray for Mommy and Gigi. Umm,” she paused. “And please pray that nothing even hurts us. Amen.” She opened her eyes looking quite pleased with herself.

            “Amen,” Dad and I said together. I reached towards the stack of pancakes observing the one I grabbed. “Ansley.” She looked up at me her eyes shining with innocence. “Why is there a chunk missing from my pancake?”

            “Uuhhhh I don’t know.” She shrugged and continued to eat.

            “Ansley,” I groaned. She laughed and smirked at me. Of course, she would try to eat my pancake. She was like Cookie Monster but with breakfast.

            We finished our breakfast quickly and worked to shove all of our school things in the car. Dad took our backpacks and water bottles. I grabbed my lunchbox. I was very proud of this one. I picked it out myself. It was zebra print with hot pink trim around it. Pink was even in the inside! I threw it in the backseat and climbed into the car. The drive to school was uncharacteristically quiet. The silence allowed my mind to drift away from what was happening here. My thoughts traveled to Virginia.

            I had never been to a hospital. Unless when I was born counts. But being an infant then, I don’t remember anything. Quickly my imagination decided it was time to fill in the blanks. I pictured a bleak white room with those fluorescent bar lights. Nurses running around. Still, they were professional working together like a well-oiled machine. How would a hospital even smell? My best guess was the disinfectant they use to clean the preschool rooms at church. The halls smelling of hints of baby powder and artificial cleanliness. Yeah, that smells right. I looked in my mental picture to my left and saw my mom. Her chin length hair neatly styled in her normal fashion with the ends just slightly tucked under. In my mind, my grandma sat beside her. Wringing her hands just as I noticed I was doing now. I sighed and shook the image out of my mind. My mouth set itself into a straight line. The only thing pulling down the corners was my sudden realization that today, today could be the day I could lose someone very special and important in my life.

            I looked out the car window to see the familiar yellow and blue building drawing near. Dad pulled the car into the loop surrounding the field and I gathered my things. “Bye Dad! Bye Ansley!” I said as a Safety Patrol student opened my door.

            “Bye Emily, Love you!” Dad waved at me. “Mom will try to let us know how everything is going later today. Ok?”

            I stepped out of the car. “Alright.” Hoisting my backpack onto my shoulders I set off weaving through the maze of paused cars to reach the sidewalk. I turned around and heard a shout behind me.

            “Bye Emily!” My sister yelled out the rolled-down window.

“Bye!” I waved back at her and laughed to myself. She was lucky. Preschool started later than my school and it ended earlier. How is that fair? I walked around the tall gate to the sidewalk. As my dad’s small grey Honda CRV pulled out of the school drop off line I took a deep breath and walked through the towering double doors on the side of the school. Being in the elementary school, I had to walk all the way to the other side of the school to reach my class. I didn’t like walking by the middle schoolers. To be completely honest, they scared me. If those giants were only in middle school, I couldn’t imagine how they’d look in four whole years. Oh gosh, I’d be in middle school in three years. I continued walking. My brightly colored sneakers hitting the pale yellow and brown tiled floor. Finally, I reached my classroom. The large sign on the door made it impossible to miss. It read, Platform 9 ¾ in large block letters. My homeroom teacher, Mrs. Cleary, was entirely an English teacher.  Her favorite book series was Harry Potter, and it was quite apparent in her choice of room décor. The wooden door, covered in red brick paper, swung open in a wide arc. I smiled up at my teacher and bounded into the classroom.

“Good morning!” she said with a large smile. Her brown eyes widened in genuine excitement.

“Hi Mrs. Cleary.” I began to walk towards my seat, but I turned as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Emily.” Mrs. Cleary squatted down beside me, looking me in the eye. I could guess what she was about to say even before she said it, based on her somber expression. “Your mom told me what’s happening today,” she said.

 I looked away. This was something I really didn’t want to talk about.

“I just wanted to say, I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Is that okay?”

I sent her a small smile. “Yeah, that’s okay with me,” I whispered. The end of my sentence softening into a mutter barely audible under my breath. She turned away to greet the next student. I looked around the classroom. The walls looked like they had been painted using a yellow highlighter. Thankfully the somewhat obnoxious color was covered up by miscellaneous posters and bulletin boards. The papers around the board shouted encouragements like, ‘Great work!’ and ‘Awesome job!’ My favorite part of the room was the glow in the dark stick-on stars that stuck on the far side of the classroom. They lived on the ceiling with only a few venturing down the sides off the wall.

“Emily! Guess what!” My friend Heidimar bounded up to me. Her dark curly hair bouncing behind her like springs. “I got to take Peanut home this weekend and we watched a movie together!” She looked over to where our class guinea pig sat, content in his large cage. Everyone loved Peanut. It was hard not to. Before class started most of the girls spent their time curled up by the cage. On the lucky occasion we could take him out, joyous squeals echoed the halls as his rounded body sniffed his way around the circle of people. The circle kept him in his own little corral. Only today I couldn’t find the same joy in the guinea pig I normally did.

“Um yeah.” I said as we sat by the cage. “That’s pretty cool.” Peanut was already out of the cage. He waddled his way over to me and I scooped him up into my lap. “Hey there,” I whispered to the rather large furball in my hands. He scooted close and rubbed my face with his ticklish whiskers. “I hope your day is better than mine so far.” His beady eyes looked up at me, and even though he couldn’t, he seemed to understand what I was saying. “I think today is going to be pretty rough.” Heidimar reached out to get her share of time with the class pet and I gently set him down on the ground. “Thanks for listening,” I whispered. More to myself than to Peanut but I think he still heard. His distinguished scent of animal feed and bedding lingered in my nose long after I set him down.

That morning went by and it felt like I wasn’t even there. It was like I was watching a movie. Only, this movie was weird. It went fast then sloooow. Go, go, go and then stop. Pause. Play. Skip. Rewind. Next scene. Change setting. After that morning I felt so dizzy, but I hadn’t really moved at all. I was so thankful I didn’t have any tests or quizzes that day. Putting whatever grade I would have gotten into my grade book would have made my pretty ‘A’ go way down.

I went to math class exhausted. Whoever was directing my movie of the day put math on extreme slow-motion mode.

 “Emily?” Mrs. Daily inquired. She picked up a large stack of papers and plopped them on my desk. “Would you mind passing these out for me?” She smiled sweetly down at me.

“Uh yeah. I can pass these out for you.” I smiled too, but my face did not match my frenzied thoughts. I stood up and grabbed the papers. We sat in pods of four so navigating the room wasn’t too bad. Well, unless the lounging backpacks across the aisle count for anything. Unfortunately, I didn’t see this one until it was too late. “Bwahh!” I cried as my flailing arms frantically swatted at the air. The papers rained down on the surrounding students, creating a flurry of white. I managed to grab not the surrounding air, but one of the desks around me. The desk bumped its neighbor, and well – things fell. Joining the papers on the floor were markers, pens, pencils, and binders. I regained my balance and stood up, moving over to gather the fallen papers but not before laughing at myself and my lack of balance.

“Here.” I looked up at the stack of papers being offered to me.

“Thanks Ava,” I replied. I took the papers and she helped me get the rest of the items off the floor. Her twin sister Emily Folkman managed to scoop her binder off the floor and straightening her backpack she said, “I’m really sorry. I should probably move this.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” I handed her one of her papers out of the messy stack.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Her blue eyes spoke with genuine sincerity.

I nodded and continued my paper rounds. Yeah, I was alright physically. I might have bruised my side from falling into the corner a desk, but that goes away. Emotionally, I was not in the slightest bit alright. Mrs. Daily continued her lesson, but I had no earthly idea what was even being discussed. My attention was fixated on the clock that hung above the whiteboard. It looked like any stereotypical classroom clock. White face with the black rim that often captivated students throughout their classes. Tick, Tick, Tick. The rhythmic thudding of the clock hands provided a steady beat to a chanting in my head. I pressed my lips together as the clock neared twelve. Tick. The surgery should be over. Tick. I bit my tongue as well. My teeth leaving the faint taste of blood in the back of my mouth. Don’t cry. Tick. Don’t you dare. Tick. What even happened? Is Poppy alright? Tick. God, please. Please help him to be alright.

There was nothing I could do. I could guess and think, but that wouldn’t change anything. I sat silently in my seat. Outside, I looked like a student paying semi-attention in class. Behind my now shut eyes was a flood of tears waiting for the floodgates to open. Sniffling, I rubbed my eye. No, I won’t cry. I am quite stubborn when it comes to crying, and right here and right now was such a bad time. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes. Blinking hard, the feeling went away. Until it rushed right back. I continued the process of blinking, tearing up, and blinking again many times. I hardly noticed the connecting door open up. The wooden door creaked on the squeaky tile. It was gently held at a stop as in strode Mrs. Cleary. At this point we were doing our homework, so everyone was distracted, and no one really noticed our teacher’s entry. The volume rose from a whisper to a buzz. Mrs. Cleary leaned over Mrs. Daily’s rounded desk and cupped her hand around her mouth to conceal her conversation. I couldn’t pick up on what she was saying. The teachers’ eyes darted over to me and I awkwardly stared at them. After a minute or so I tried to refocus on my work. Lowering my head to stare at the paper, I picked up my glittery pink pencil and began to solve the problems waiting for me.

“Go ahead, Emily is over there.” I overheard Mrs. Daily state. My head shot up like rocket after hearing my name. Mrs. Daily gestured towards where I was sitting.

Mrs. Cleary slowly made her way over to me, climbing over the bags and backpacks strewn about the room. Putting her hands on my desk she lowered herself to where she was squatting on the floor. “Hey,” she started, “I just wanted to let you know I got a message from your mom.”

Finally, news about what happened. I braced myself for the worst and barely managed to squeak out a small, “Yeah?” My heart began to race in my chest beating like a drum. I intertwined my fingers under my desk squeezing so tightly my knuckles were a ghostly white.

She glanced down at her phone. “She said that the surgery went well, and your grandpa is in recovery.” She continued on with more details, but my mind immediately fixated on one thing. The surgery went well. He’s okay. Thank God! He’s fine now!

“Thank you,” I said cutting off her sentence. The corners of my eyes began to well up with tears. This time they were not of sadness but of relief.  “Thank you for telling me.” I swiped quickly at my eyes stopping the tears for escaping.

“Anytime.” She smiled at me and stood up. She came around my chair and gave me a hug. Her sweet perfume smelled of springtime and matched my joyous thoughts. A smile was now stuck on my face and I don’t think I could get it off if I tried. At that time, I knew that everything would be great. She went back to her classroom, turning around to smile at me one last time before leaving us to finish math.

***

“Emily and Ansley keep your eyes open for Mom. Her plane just landed,” my dad said. My sister and I began the quest of hunting for my mom. The small airport was unexciting, and my family accounted for about half of the people there. The hall had deep red carpet and tall potted plants. The plants had collected so much dust they looked more grey than green. I hoped they were fake. Real plants probably couldn’t survive that. We had all really missed Mom in the last few days. We had seen her on facetime with my grandma and grandpa, but that wasn’t the same. Poppy was doing well. We had gotten to call him while he was at the hospital. He told us how he was sick of the food and sent my mom and uncle to get him lunch. Apparently, they couldn’t agree on what to get. Their tastebuds seem like they’re from different planets. Maybe it’s a sibling thing because Ansley and I are like that too.

“Mom!” Ansley squealed. She ran over to her and gave her what might have been the biggest jump-hug ever.

“Mom!” I quickly joined the hug.

“Ohh, I missed you girls so much!” She hugged us both again before going over to hug my dad. We went to grab her luggage, and as I was pulling the handle up my eyes saw two wrapped boxes.

Ansley, quite the observer, noticed these boxes as well. “Mom,” she inquired. “What are those?”

“Those are for both of you.” She grabbed the boxes and set one in each of our hands. Ansley quickly tore into the paper and gasped.

“A Renee Barbie doll! And she has the zipline backpack! Eekkkk!” She danced with the doll around the room twirling with the box. Her favorite movie was the Barbie spy movie and she had all of the characters but this one. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I tore into the paper and looked at the doll. Staring right back at me was a Clemson cheerleader. I had looked at her perfectly made face and smooth hair many times. The box sat on the nightstand in one of the guest rooms at my grandparents’ house. My mom got it in college, and it had never been taken out of the box. “I can …”

“Yes. Let me help you.” My mom bent down and began to help me open the packaging. I wrapped her in an even bigger hug.

“Thank you,” I said into her shirt. “And Poppy is doing good?”

“Yes,” She looked me directly in the eyes. “Poppy is fine. God answered our prayers.”

I never imagined that a miracle would happen in my life like this. My grandpa is a walking, talking miracle and the only explanation for it is that God had a plan. My view of God and of His plans for my life changed that day. I think they changed for the better. No one can ever truly understand the amazingness of God, but now, when I think of that moment, I feel overwhelmed by it. It truly is a time to remember.