More than a name.

As I walked down the halls of my high school, I can't help but look into the faces of the people passing by me. The jocks, the dancers, the nerds. Everyone has a label. Everyone has a place. As I watched them during lunch it was almost as if there were invisible lines between the groups. They were all so careful not to cross one of those lines, onto another groups "territory". I did notice there was one spot where all the groups had equal ground. Where everyone had a right to go. The trash can to throw away their food. Isn't it funny that the trash can is the one place everyone can go without being mocked, or emotionally bruised in some way?

As I watched the faces pass by me, I tried to see them as people, not as a label. I tried to remember that they are not just faces that are going to show up in my year book. They are not just names that I will hear and later forget. They are people. Real people. With stories. With backgrounds and futures. With lives. People that love them. With different likes and dislikes. And no two people were the same. It was a funny thought, but I began to wonder how they'd see me. To them, I'm probably nothing more than a face  in a yearbook. What would I mean to them?

Then I tried something else. I smiled at everyone. And the response I got was amazing! I smiled. The boy held the door for me. I smiled. The girl's face lit up. I smiled. He said hi. I smiled. She handed me my lip gloss when it fell out of my pocket. I didn't know a single name. I didn't know their stories. But I did know that in that moment we had something in common. Something we could share on equal grounds. A simple little smile.

As I kept walking I thought, "how many of these people will remember me? How many people will walk through the halls and think that Ree Furlong went here. That I was a living, breathing soul that walked these halls." I have a story. Maybe I'll blog about it sometime. I'm a real person behind the picture in the year book, with hopes and dreams for the future. Someone who loves sunsets and oreos. Someone who adores christmas lights and long runs in the dark. Someone who loves summer and families and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints with all of my heart. And not everyone will know that. Heck, how many people would really care exept those that love me? Probably not a lot, but I will always remember to think of people as real people. Because they are more than a name or a face in the yearbook. They are children of God.