By the end of the two weeks before Thanksgiving break, I was beyond exhausted by a load of major commitments. Just in time, however, one of my close friends offered a perfect solution: we decided to visit Dr. Ibrahim's litter of kittens.
As the winter sky settled into muddy blues and grays, my friend and I hopped in Dr. Ibrahim's car and headed to her orange-lit home. My first sight inside the house was Luna, a white tabby cat with a patch of silver on the crest of her head; she was the kittens' mother. After a few minutes of being entranced by her silky fur, I left the hallway and peeked into the dining room, where tiny furry mounds peppered the carpet. Some kittens pounced across the legs of maple-colored chairs, whereas others curled in sleep under the shadow of a cranberry grocery bag. As we snacked on warm chocolate croissants and mango juice, we chatted with Dr.Ibrahim and tossed around a miniature soccer ball to entertain the kittens. Before long, we had lost track of time—it was 6:45. It had been over an hour since we arrived on the quiet, tree-lined street of Joy Lane, and we only had 15 minutes before the commencement of Lessons and Carols, an annual Christmas tradition hosted inside Groton’s chapel. With our shoelaces untied, we hastily said goodbye to Dr. Ibrahim and rushed back to the brick-faced Hundred House dorms, the frosty coldness numbing our cheeks and the darkness a heavy blanket over the campus. Adrenaline coursed through our veins as our footsteps pounded rhythmically against the cement ground. In the corner of my pocket, I could still feel the warmth of a leftover croissant wrapped in crinkling tinfoil. The warmth unfurled across my body, releasing all the tension and all the stress from the past two weeks into the frozen air. I laughed with my friend as the bells began to chime in the distance.