The first day of class on a new college campus; I was nothing but flustered. I tripped on my own feet at least ten times, getting to know a campus that would soon become my stomping ground. I walked around for hours, trying to find the closest bathroom in each building. I walked myself into the incorrect classroom, at least three times. By the way my day was unfolding, I was quite delighted I had not walked into the boys bathroom yet. Near the windup of my day, I was beyond ready to go home and sink into my California king size bed and shed a few tears of frustration. What I needed, was a little pocket of joy.

At 2:59, I was bragging my feet into my last class of the day, that started promptly at 3:00 o’clock. Of course I had walked around the circle lecture hall, a minimum of three times before I had established where I was meant to be. I sighed, as I pushed open the heavy wooden door to Finite Mathematics, because the only open seats left were in the front row. I was aggravated, as I stomped my feet down the steps to the very first row. Little did I know that sitting in this seat, that soon became my unspoken assigned seat, would grand me the little pocket of joy I always seem to need.

As class began to start, I noticed two sign language interpreters arrived and sat in the very front of the classroom. I began to curiously look around to see who they were assisting, until I realized it was the lovely girl sitting beside me. Here I was, whimpering to myself about my mediocre day, when the girl sitting next to me did not have the privilege to hear out of her own two ears. An immense sum of thoughts started to rush through my head, because I had never actually met a deaf person before. Wouldn’t it be hard to learn? Wouldn’t it be hard to never experience music? Wouldn’t it be hard to feel disconnected in a world full of noises? I started to think about how difficult it must be, and how different their problems are compared to mine. I started to become friends with her, Carley, because she started to make an impact on my life without even truly knowing her kind heart.

I began to admire everything about Carley, especially her smile. She is always smiling at me, and her smile lights up the room. It is amazing to me, how someone with so much to be angry about, is filled with an abundance of joy. When Carley lets out a little giggle every once in a while, it warms my heart. I wish she could hear the beautiful laugh she has. I wish a lot of things for Carley, and I only know her on a surface level. What a beautiful blessing she is, to take on her disability and not let it stop her from being a happy, wonderful, and smart woman.

Now, I push open that heavy wooden door leading to room 103 at 3:00 o’clock with hope in my steps, and a smile on my face because of Carley. I find so much beauty in her struggle, because of how gracefully she deals with her disability. When life gets tough and problems in my life come up, I am starting to think of Carley and how strong she is to fight through her struggles. She is a true example of how people with disabilities teach others great lessons, and put my life into a different perspective. People like Carley make a math class so much more, and make a smile more remarkable. I encourage you, to step back and think about the little pockets of joy you can find through out your day. Carley, you girl are my little pocket of joy when I am in need of sunshine.