There is something perfectly refreshing and simple in spending time with people who speak your language—who know where you come from and why you love the things you love.
Bond has been one of my dearest friends from our time at Hillsdale and she is the only of our friends who calls my husband “Trav.” We loved our weekend with this college friend turned bridesmaid turned long-distance kindred spirit.
Going from a close, tight-knit community like Hillsdale to a huge city of traffic jams and strangers makes weekends like this just the food we need to keep persevering. We slept, ate lots of delicious meals, talked and read and laughed. We dreamed of grad school and publishing books and giggled about the imagined personalities of all of our college friends’ future children.
And now this morning at school in this big city, I don’t feel quite so alone because I have been reminded that there is a friend five and a half hours away who is trying so hard to love her students and to teach them beauty, who is reading the same books, loving the same things, and whose prayers are joining with mine.