It started out as a joke. We were talking about initially putting people in boxes and how everyone has broken those boxes. Then I began describing these boxes physically, “Her box is definitely made of cheap cardboard.” But then I started building these boxes for my teammates more seriously. I have lived with these five individuals for four weeks in constant community. I have served with them, laughed with them, complained with them, worried about them, listened to them, learned from them for four weeks. And in that time I’ve built boxes for them.
Ashlyn
Porcelain, a type of pottery known for both its delicacy and durability. Working with porcelain requires great patience and skill. It is a material made for perfectionists as the smallest amount of water can change it’s texture and inconsistencies create cracks as it cools. But this risk of failure is worth the result when made properly. There is no other clay that possesses the same luminosity and durability. It is often described as white gold. Usually regarded as the most prestigious type of pottery, it’s the tableware you bring out when you have guests. But with Ashlyn, it’s not for show. It’s not to present her best to her guests, but to give her best to her guests. She wants people to feel valued, to feel like they belong. She interacts with gentleness and strength through her compassion and concern for others.
Brandi
Driftwood, the remains of wooden ships. It is a natural piece of art, crafted by the ocean, the wind, the waves. Driftwood is most prevalent after a storm, a flood, a monsoon, after the chaos has subsided. Driftwood has stories to tell, it has ventured far across the sea. It has witnessed and experienced struggle in the rough winds, but also peace as it rides the waves before reaching the shore. It’s aged wood, the way Brandi has an aged soul. She’s young, but already full of a well-lived life. She holds a maturity beyond her years and let’s her intuition carry her decisions like the wind and waves.
Chelsea
Redwood, the largest and tallest trees in the world. Most trees have roots that grow deep to anchor the tree, but redwoods intertwine its roots with other redwoods close to the surface. This system helps redwoods to withstand fierce winds, earthquakes, fires, storms. The trees are literally holding each other up. Chelsea is humble in her service to others, supporting in every way she can while also being willing and wanting to be dependent on others’ support. She steps out to use her strengths to cover others’ weaknesses, and she recognizes where she is weak and in need of others’ strengths.
Kelsey
Diamond, a gemstone treasured for its endurance and shine. It’s name is derived from the Ancient Greek word adámas, or unbreakable. It is essentially coal that has faced extreme heat and pressure, but instead of breaking, forms into one of the strongest known natural materials. Kelsey carries that same resilience. She has a joy that can’t be broken, it can’t even be scratched. Diamonds are a material full of substance. A finely cut diamond is bright, beautiful, valuable. It carries light well and maintains it’s own shine. Kelsey shines, but her greatest beauty is that she sees it in others.
Kristi
Wool, a lightweight and durable fabric. It’s not naturally heavy material, yet is very strong and resistant to tears. Wool is a natural product, containing no artificial elements. It’s a material for animal lovers since wool is harvested without bringing any harm to the animals that produce it. The fibers are soft and cozy. Kristi carries a soft voice and a soft presence. It’s easy and comfortable to be around her, the way a wool sweater feels on a chilly autumn afternoon.
But what is my box made of? I think of the stones used to build a fortified tower within a castle. Stones are long-lasting and very dense, so it provides sufficient protection. It’s main drawbacks are the weight and difficulty to keep warm. It’s heavy material is exhausting to work with and it’s cold inside, but it feels safe and secure. I know I’ve mistaken a prison for a refuge, but I’ve gotten used to the draft.
An excerpt from my journal: “I don’t want to get attached. The shared moments fill me with a hope for connection. But I feel myself mixing the cement, readying the stones. I want to build my walls higher. The best way for a fortress to fall is from within. I can’t let anyone in. It gives them permission to hurt me, not that they would, but the fact that they can is fear enough.
It’s scary how safe I’m starting to feel around them. I don’t want to admit it.”
I didn’t want to include the last two sentences, it changes the whole excerpt. I still don’t want to admit it. But I’m starting to forget why I don’t want to admit it.
