A Love Letter to Harvard Divinity School

 Dear Harvard, I love your gates,

your stone buildings,

 and the venerable wooden doors of your Divinity School.

I love the Div School's balustrades and bannisters,

its colorful tiled floors gently worn down by generations of students and professors,

and windows that look like they came from a monastery.

I love that ivy grows outside and inside those windows.

I love the Div School library, with the most intriguing titles on the spines of books,

I love that the first Bible printed in North America was printed by you. In 1663. In Algonquin.

I love that the HDS library has various cozy chairs for curling up and studying in.

  I love that you are old and traditional...

but up-to-date and eco-sensitive, too:

 

I love that, when Lovely Daughter #2 goes anywhere now, she carries a bunch of flash cards with her and whips them out to study.

  

I love that I got to attend a class with her, where a tweed-clad professor lit our brains on fire. And I took notes like any student would.

It was as exciting to me as bungee-jumping off a bridge in New Zealand might be to somebody else.

It was like an answer to a prayer.