Naps, Abbey Wu

A nap is one of the smallest, yet most reliable joys in my life. They are like a quiet reset button set right in the middle of a busy day. Sometimes, life starts to get loud. With notifications buzzing constantly, schoolwork piling up, and a million conversations happening at the same time, a nap is my chosen escape from the bustle of the day.

When I choose my spot to lie down in, I can feel everything start to grow quiet, and time feels like it slows down just enough for me to breathe. Simple and often unplanned, the lack of expectations for accomplishment add to the appeal of a nap break.

For just a short portion of my day, my only goal is rest. When I wake up, it’s like stepping back into the intensity of the day with a lighter mood. What seemed so overwhelming earlier starts to seem slightly more manageable, and tasks cease to appear so daunting. 

A nap turns exhaustion and stress into peace and patience. In a life that often feels so fast and demanding, naps remind me that sometimes the best way to move forward is to pause, close my eyes, and allow myself to breathe.

Spring Break, Georgia Fink

One small, small thing that makes me happy is spring break — the break that I have been looking forward to since the start of the second semester. It’s one of the shorter breaks that we get throughout the school year, but I would say that it’s also one of the best ones. It occurs at just the right time, when students are coming towards the end of the year, starting to burn out, and gives us the push we need to make it to summer. This break makes me so very happy for many other reasons. Firstly, the weather is nice, which allows me to go swimming and be outside. Secondly, throughout the break, I have my birthday. This adds to the optimal timing as I am able to spend my birthday on vacation with my family. All of this, and much more, makes Spring Break one of the best breaks ever, making me very happy every time I think about it.

Pencils, Ellington Tough

Every school year, I buy a box of 72 pre-sharpened, #2 Dixon Ticonderoga pencils. I stick several of them into the side pocket of my backpack — easy access when it’s time to take notes, or when someone inevitably misplaces their mechanical pencil. 

Nothing brings me more joy than the simplicity of a wooden pencil. At the end of each week, I touch up the supply, sharpening dulled tips and replenishing others. Some of them will fill my notebooks, and others will disappear, giving me only the satisfaction that they may instead come to fill mugs on teacher’s desks. Through this small gift (and I do mean gift, frequently a token of recognition for my classmates’ birthdays), a part of me is dispersed throughout the school, everywhere and anywhere.

I’m not alone in my love of the wooden pencil. There are those who still believe in the magic of a single pencil, yellow paint over an infinitude of possibilities, ideas to be born and LEQs to be written. Although we may be losing the magic of the old-fashioned pencil, blunt but trusty, its allure has not lost us.