The Color of it All
by Cassie Paul
It doesn’t seem like a whole lot of time. Maybe it’s not. In school it
takes longer than that to study a unit. It can take longer than that to make a
hard decision. It takes longer to lose twenty pounds. Yet I was able to do
quite a lot in four weeks. I colored some molten glass, watched some clowns
perform, saw a group of actors sing, dyed some fabric blue, wove three
scarves, read six books, made a bookmark to keep my place with, and shaped
some metal into a bracelet. But this really isn’t about me, or what I made in
those four weeks. It’s about whom I spent that time with.
Bunk six of Girls’ Annex Two at Buck’s Rock is, from what I’ve heard,
the biggest bunk on the camp. It also happened to be that the girls living
inside had the biggest personalities that I’ve ever seen.
When I first met Alexa her sweet nature seemed to capture my
friendship while her quirky sense of humor appealed to my fun loving side. She
was the epitome of confidence with her electric blue scarf hanging down to her
knees, and I admired her for standing out the way she did.
Alexa didn’t seem to mind that she stood out from the crowd, which she
made quite obvious by wearing bright clashing colors and singing out of tune
to her discordant guitar.
Alexa is a very unique girl both inside and out, but her uniqueness on
the outside was always secondary to her uniqueness on the inside. Alexa was
able to change my perspective on problems in my own life by just letting me
watch her be herself.
Alexa’s mindset was very far off from the definition of “normal.” She
looked at situations differently and saw a brighter, like her bright clothes,
outcome than I could ever imagine.
Her sense of humor would always make me laugh until I cried no matter
how upset I was, or how serious I considered problems to be.
Her spasmodic train of thought would always leave me hanging, and her
random fits of dance would cause me to leave my problems behind, and join in
on the fun.
Alexa was able to show me that confidence and conformity don’t fit
hand-in-hand; and she was able to teach me that it’s not terrible to laugh
while you’re crying.
I don’t know if Alexa ever knew how much she helped me, but I wish now
that I were able to help her in return.
Alexa is, and always will be, at least in my mind, a one-of-a-kind
person, and I would be the luckiest girl to ever meet someone as special as
she is again. So here’s to you, Alexa, and to, something that only you would
understand, the fact that, yes, my dad is a dinosaur.
When you look at the bigger picture, four weeks isn’t that short. It’s
enough time to make a great friend; to learn a life’s lesson; and to know that
I will forever be a different person.
So really, when you think about it, four weeks is the longest time in
Tree Planting in Memory of Alexa Berman
The Color of it All