My winter break was picturesque. In fact, it was so wonderful that it would put a Hallmark card to shame. Not only did I enjoy sleeping in every day, but after I decided to open my eyes slowly to the morning sun (well, afternoon at that point), I lounged around for a couple more hours until I felt I was able to continue another day of lounging. When I wasn’t lounging, eating turkey casserole (I started to get creative with how I could eat Turkey after Thanksgiving) and Christmas cookies on December 26th, I spent my time enjoying being “home”, or what I always called home. Although I do miss driving around leisurely through the suburban streets of my hometown when I’m holed up in the library studying for tests, I realized that I can’t quite call Pennsylvania my home anymore. Sure, it’s great that home is the place where Mom helps with laundry and the ice cream never runs out. But, I discovered that Marist is truly where my heart is. This feeling was only further confirmed when I visited my high school, Wyomissing Area, for my Ambassadors visit. Not only did I have a sinking feeling in my stomach when I approached the parking lot, but I really didn’t get much joy out of reconnecting with old teachers, and walking the hallways once more. I got pure joy out of telling students what possible opportunities are waiting for them at Marist. During my happy spiel, I got a sinking feeling in my heart because I realized that I wasn’t truly home. I would be home on January 17th. So long Pennsylvania, I’m comin’ home.
– Lauren Wennell