Peggy.

“Melissa, do you have three minutes to spare to help me do something?”

I don’t.  I am running around like crazy.  The last thing I want to do is help Peggy, a seventy-something, much-loved but slightly-loosing-it, nursing professor, with some random task that I am certain, in spite of what she’s said, will take much longer than 3 minutes.

“Sure, Peggy.  What do you need?” I ask my professor.

“Can you walk me over to Pearce?  There’s black ice.  I don’t want to fall.”

I grab my coat, and Peggy links her arm through mine.  She makes me think of a little girl; her head comes up to my shoulder, and she lets me lead her down the path.  The walk to Pearce, the next building over from the Science Center, would normally take me three minutes on my own.  With Peggy, it takes ten.  She asks about my finals, and we talk about how we’ll each spend Christmas.  In Pearce, I wait for Peggy to run her errand, and then I escort her back to the Science Center.  She grips my arm the whole time.  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”

…..

I feel like a brat for being annoyed with Pegs originally.  Yes, I was busy, but I wasn’t that busy.  One of the things I love most about the college I attend is the nursing faculty there, and the relationships they take the time to develop with each of their students.  I almost missed the chance to do that with Peggy, because I was being selfish.  I’m glad that I didn’t.  The twenty five minutes I spent with her was probably the high point of my day.