When I was a freshman, my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Heather, on the first day, made it her mission to hammer in life lessons into us. Most of the class either snorted or rolled their eyes at the idea. I, myself wasn't too glad either.
But one time, she told us a personal story, and I am surprised it stuck with me to this very day.
She said she grew up in the high north of the United States: Watertown, South Dakota, one of the coldest towns in the US. She told us of days of endless winter. The snow would be so thick and resistant that when you dared to walk through it, it felt as if it were metal—strong and compact. Mrs. Heather spoke of frosty winds that chilled your bones, icy flakes that froze to your skin, the swift flapping of snow angels, the hard pelting of compact snow balls, and the always grey skies above.
But then it changed. Mrs. Heather and her family moved, when she was about thirteen, to the Deep South: Savannah, Georgia, one of the hottest and most humid places in America. She told us that relocating there was one of the most miserable times of her life—at first. Georgia’s unbearably high temperatures and blazing white-hot sun was all too much for the girl whose biggest childhood dream was to be a snow fairy.
“The hot and humid air wrapped around me,” Mrs. Heather had said, “and it had no intention of letting me go,”
She got used to the constant heat, cloudless skies, and snow less days. Though, Mrs. Heather said she often found herself pulling on her biggest and puffiest winter coat, with the plan of strolling outside in the 106 degrees heat. She still found herself holding a steaming hot mug of rich hot chocolate, lounging on a lawn chair in her backyard while soaking up some sun. And she still found herself lying on the sun-heated sand, sliding her arms up and down, flapping like a snow angel.
I guess that there was a part of her—somewhere in the deepest corners of her mind—that still felt the icy winds, the frozen flakes, and heard the soft flapping of snow angel wings of Watertown South Dakota.
“Change; it’s a scary thing. Sometimes it creeps up on you and gets you when you least expect it. It’s okay to be scared, or even hate change. It’s human nature,” Mrs. Heather had told us. “But it’s also human nature to adapt and survive. So if any of you ever experience change—don’t run from it, don’t be scared of it. Think of it like a new beginning, or a new experience. But don’t let change overwhelm you, or make you something you’re not. There’s always going to be a part of you that will be stubborn and refuse to change. And that’s okay, we can’t fully adapt to change—otherwise it would make us the perfect species. But humans aren't flawless—far from it—, but change isn't perfect either,”

Right now, I'm facing change.I'm scared the change won't be for the better, and I'll end up regretting it. But then I remember what Mrs. Heather said; Humans aren't perfect—I’m not perfect. Not all of me will change, and that’s okay. Just like Mrs. Heather, there will still be a part of me that will insist of making snow angels in the hot sand.