“Next week is course registration.”
My daughter smiled
as she looked
out the bus window.
“I’ve already
set an alarm.
I don’t want
to miss my chance
again.”
I smiled back.
“Already?
It’s that time
again?”
She nodded.
“Last time,
I couldn’t register
for the classes
I wanted.
I think
that’s why
it was
so hard.”
She paused
for a moment.
“Everything
fills up
so quickly.
It feels
like
you only get
one chance.“
I knew
exactly
what she meant.
“Yeah.
That would make
anyone
feel tense.”
We smiled,
then quietly
looked back
out the window.
For a while,
neither of us
said anything.
Then,
a memory
from more than
thirty years ago
quietly returned.
Just Trying It
Back then,
I didn’t even know
what
British Literature
was.
The class
still had an opening,
so I simply registered.
Just trying it.
Most of my friends
didn’t take
that professor’s class.
On the first day,
she said something
I had never heard
before.
“Don’t use
reference books.
Even if your ideas
aren’t perfect,
write
what you think.”
I remember
thinking,
“This professor
is different.”
I stayed up late,
typing my essay
on an old typewriter.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The next day,
I handed it in.
A few days later,
I received
an A.
Then another.
So I took
her next class.
Another A.
Later,
when it was time
to write
my graduation thesis,
I chose
the professor
everyone recommended.
It seemed like
the safer choice.
I followed
the usual way.
I earned
a B.
More than
thirty years
later,
I still
remember
my student ID.
870076.
I still
smile
whenever
I think about
that
British Literature
class.
But
I can’t even remember
what my graduation thesis
was about.
What I Didn’t Know
For a long time,
I believed
I already knew
what was best
for me.
I didn’t.
These days,
I still hope
things go
the way
I planned.
I still do
my best.
But if they don’t,
I no longer assume
I’ve lost
the best path.
Sometimes,
I simply leave
a little room
for reality
to answer.
Because
again and again,
the path
I never expected
turned out
to be
the one
that fit me
best.
