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Chelsey Bennett

A Good Mess, A Pleasant Surprise, and my Thankful Heart

       A few days later it was time for me to head back to school. I was certainly not ready go back to the land of college competition. I felt that this break had been nothing but a tease. As I was packing my things and preparing to go, I saw a head of dark brown hair appear just inside my door.

            “Chelsey?” Caelyn said, “Are you gonna go?” I tried to explain to her that I had to go back to school. When she finally consented, she said, “I wanna do something fun with you before you leave.” I thought long and hard, I finally decided to teach her something she could do when I wasn’t around. I decided to teach her how to make scratch art- the activity I learned in VBS when I was in first grade. It was simple- color with a black crayon and then you can scratch it off and it looks really artsy. So Caelyn and I ran around the house collecting all of the black crayons we could find. I collected some scraps of paper and we began to color our base layer. Caelyn loved scribble scrabbling all over the paper. We cheerfully called it a “good mess.” Then we proceeded to conceal every centimeter of color with a thick, waxy layer of black crayon. We made more “good messes” as we colored furiously. I left Caelyn coloring to find some toothpicks. I searched frantically, but found none, so we used one of the multiple pairs of chopsticks we have lying around my home.

            I return to an eager-eyed little girl, bouncing in her bright blue sneakers as she waited to see what I had planned next. I sat down with her and I began to etch away the black… and I etched… and I etched… and for some reason it was not working. I scratched and dug my chopstick into my paper until I tore a hole in it. Eyes squinting with laughter, I declared to Caelyn, “Well, that was a fail.” She took the chopstick and dragged it across her black sheet of paper. It made the faintest streak- invisible really, unless you saw it being made. But she loved it. We colored a little bit more, until the time of my departure had arrived.

            My whole family helped me carry my bags to my car in the pouring rain. Caelyn ran up to my window in the rain as I was driving away, my mom yelling after her to “come back here!” “Bye Chelsey!!! I love you!! I miss you!” she yelled as I drove away. I watched her petite and flailing figure grow smaller and smaller in my rear-view mirror until the distance overcame my poor eyesight.

            The next day I woke up in my dorm. I rolled out of bed and slowly got ready for class. As I checked my watch, I decided to skip breakfast this morning. I was not in the best of moods. Not only was it Monday, but it was a Monday just getting back from a break. I was exhausted and ready to be back at home.

            Tuesday; however, wasn’t much better. In fact, it was the exact same. I felt just as ready to go home.

            Wednesday came and passed.

            Thursday followed Wednesday, as it always does, and my day felt more monotonous than ever. As I was walking past the Kugal, I reviewed the last week to myself. I became very thankful for my family all over again. And I smiled as I remembered the humorous memories my sisters and I had made over the break. Routine overcame my apathy as I headed down to the post office to check my mail.

            I turned the key with a lack of anticipation. I glanced in expecting another empty mailbox. To my surprise, there resting in the back of my miniature P.O. box was a little pink envelope. I knew from the scrawly penmanship that it was from Caelyn. I grinned ear to ear as I tore apart the seal. Inside was two pieces of loose-leaf lined paper. The first one had a heart and cross on it. It said, “I love you, I miss you.” The second one was what I would call a “good mess.” Half of it was colorful and had a bunch of random, sweet, English words written on it, the other half was black with several very faint lines craved into the blackness. I laughed out loud as I scrutinized the illegible mess. I never figured out what it said, but I know it was something special.

            As I left the post office, spirits high, I became thankful all over again. I am so grateful to have my adopted sister who can encourage me to see even the biggest failures as a “good mess” and something that can bring a little joy to a restless college student. I stopped and looked up towards the sky, admiring everything around me, suddenly seeing with appreciative eyes. I drank in the sunlight as I gazed into the beautiful sunset surrounding me. The leaves on the trees fell softly on the ground in front of me as I closed my eyes, exhaling in contentment. I smiled to myself, thinking and admiring my sister of eighteen months’ beauty, innocence, and generosity. She, one who had only been exposed to my native language for eighteen months, who had only been able to experience family life for a year and a half, was teaching me- a young adult of nineteen years, living a very monotonous life what it means to have

 A Thankful Heart.

A Second First Thanksgiving... and My Thankful Heart

     Twelve months passed and before we knew it, another Thanksgiving holiday was upon us. The kitchen erupted with an echo of joyful noise. I laughed as my sister, Carli, ran dramatically around the kitchen, singing melodiously at the top of her lungs, while being chased by a spastic and screaming eight year old, Caelyn. I tried desperately to get out of their way, carrying my bowl of in-the-making sweet potato casserole. My dad comes running into the kitchen from outside yelling, “Where’s the turkey? I just had it! How could I lose a turkey?” My mom circles around the dining room table one last time, makes sure there are enough festive plates, and begins setting out deviled eggs, sparkling grape juice, and other thanksgiving dishes.

            Once all of the food had been prepared, the table was set, and everyone had been assembled, my entire immediate family sat down to enjoy another thanksgiving meal together. It is not very often that all of my siblings and I are home at the same time, so this was a special occasion besides the annual occurrence of the holiday.

            Hands held fast, eyes shut firmly, and hearts prayed fervently as my family and I said our thanksgiving blessing. Before my mom could start the “go around the table and share something that you are thankful for” game, Caelyn stood to her feet, grasping something tightly in her hands. My mind flashed back to our first meeting in China as I watched her turn over the small gifts she had in her precious palms.

            “Family,” she caught our attention. Meddling with the objects in her hands, she announce, “Take one and pass it down.” She unveiled her gifts- notes. Letters that each read, “Family. Thank you. I love you.” On each letter, she had drawn hearts, crosses, and a picture of our family. My mom then announced that Caelyn had told her earlier, “This is my first Thanksgiving.”

            I smiled as I remembered last year’s Thanksgiving in North Carolina. It then occurred to me that my little sister understood Thanksgiving for the first time this year. She’d been telling me all day what she was thankful for. I had played a game of make believe in her pink and purple Fischer Price play house earlier that day, and she told me over and over, “I am thankful for my family!” My sister had been blessed with wisdom beyond her years, which she shared ever-so-sweetly with her family through these simple gifts. I couldn’t help being amazed by Caelyn’s thoughtfulness and generosity. My youngest sister was an inspiration to her family; an encouragement constantly leading me towards

A Thankful Heart.