This morning, in that place between wakefulness and sleep, I had a really nice thought. The thought gave way to a feeling of calm and content that I've been praying for. I haven't been feeling the greatest recently. Sometimes I've known why that is and sometimes I haven't, but today this thought made me feel optimistic. I don't know if it's a shadow of things to come or not, and I expect I might be disappointed if it turns out to be just a thought or just a dream. But it gives me some courage now and for that I am thankful to God because I am a sad and depressed person and I know that my only joy is given to me by my Creator.

The thought I had was something I might have normally given little thought or consideration. I often think of such things. But this time my thought seemed almost real and very possibly -- usually these sort of things feel foolish and impossible -- not so this time. Here's my thought:

***

I awake one morning and look about my room. The sunlight pours through my window and my roommate grins and waves goodbye as he leaves for class. I say a prayer, shower, dress, and gather up my books and notebooks for my classes. One of my books is a blue leather covered volume that's nearly as thick as it is wide. I place it in my backpack, eager to read its most precious words and be instructed in the understanding of them. I grab my cell phone and check to make certain that I have my key before my door locks behind me. I walk briskly down the hall, greeting those I pass. Down the stairs and out the door I go, holding it for a guy who smiles at me and quits fumbling for his keycard. I walk down the sidewalk to the Cannon Center cafeteria -- about thirty yards from the door of my dorm. The door swings open in front of me and two girls walk through, breaking the beat of my happy march as I wait impatiently for them to pass through. I catch the heavy door before it closes, fling it open as I am apt to do, and step into the lobby, leaving behind the late summer sunlight and the leaves that are just beginning to brown.

But oh, what lies before me now eclipses the beauty of an season since the dawn of time. A figure sits on the bench facing the front desk. The girl's hair is long and straight, and her headband guides it in a cascade down her back as she looks through her mail. Until last Sunday I'd never seen such a creature. Her whole manner radiated love and goodness and the desire to please God. She was mature and serous, but still childlike and lighthearted. I'd met her for breakfast three times in the past four days and there are no signs of letting up.

She, sensing my presence, looks up from her mail and offers me a smile and a greeting. Her brother is going on his mission, it seems. We are happy to see each other and we walk side-by-side toward the cafeteria.

***

There it is. It seems very simplistic and natural, but it's things like this that really count.