Monday, with sun through the windows

To the group of teen girls in my shop, on an August Monday; the day school starts for the year:

I love your banter. You've long-since finished those drinks I prepared for you. And for the last ninety minutes, you've sat laughing, and recounting your day.

You excitedly trip over each other as your stories about AP History, or Kevin from homeroom, or the cafeteria drama, escalate. You throw back your heads with laughter and find every reason to garner another smile from your circle.

You sound like a bunch of chickens. But don't stop.

I hope to God you are all as confidant in the hallways of your school. That you will walk with your shoulders thrown back after graduation. I know you might not see it now, but you are careless with your laughter among the circle of friends. Your conversation is too innocent, too loud, to hold mean secrets about others. It is freeing to see.

I hope you maintain this poise, I hope acne or embarrassing social faux pas, or the words people might say to you, don't change you in a negative way.

May your conversations always be so boisterous.

May you remember these moments as you age, may you continue creating them, too.