He's at school every morning, greeting the early students as they trickle in. My choir teacher knows everyone, and everyone knows him. Of all the teachers, he's the one who genuinely cares. He doesn't treat me like a kid, even though I'm still in high school. The other teachers treat me like a young child, but he has conversations with me as if we are peers. His wife has cancer and undergoes treatments, yet he radiates Jesus' joy. Through all the pain and uncertainty, my choir teacher checks in on my classmates and me to ensure our day is going alright. I've known her for a while, and my friend still astonishes me with her kindness and selflessness. She may be disorganized, clumsy, and frustrated most of the time; however, it's her heart that counts. She's the one who sits with the outcasts and talks to the friendless. Every day, she makes sure I'm doing alright. Her selflessness reflects Christ's attitude and unconditional love towards sinners like me. My pastor is outgoing, funny, and amiable. Everyone enjoys conversations with him. Through his keen sense of humor, his kind servant spirit shines. Willing to help in any project around church or town, my pastor exhibits the Lord's willingness that "none should perish," even if evangelizing is often awkward or uncomfortable. Because he has fully surrendered his life to Jesus Christ, it is obvious my pastor walks daily with the Lord. They sacrificed a comfortable life to become a missionary family. My cousin, her husband, and two young sons didn't have to go. They didn't have to listen to the Lord's call to a distant and unfamiliar country. Yet they followed God's voice, even willing to lose their lives for unsaved souls. During missionary training, they discovered cancer had invaded my cousin's body during her pregnancy with her youngest son. She lost her hair, had several operations, and struggled through chemotherapy; praise be to the Lord alone that both my cousin and her youngest son are doing well, leaning on the support of their church family's multitude of prayers. This family displays a servant's heart as they serve Christ with willing hearts. Like Mr. Holland, Ruth, Pastor James, and the V. family, good neighbors selflessly and consistently give themselves to their community. These individuals are not only role models for me and everyone they influence, but they also change the world daily by waking up and choosing to live differently. Thank you for the examples of joyfulness, selflessness, surrender, and willingness.

It’s after our first banquet of the year, and Andrea is giving the new Ravenclaws a tour of our dorms. They came down from the bedrooms, and now Andrea is showing them around our common room’s library and study area. I know she’s a prefect, and she’s busy, but I’m awkwardly standing in the doorway, waiting for her to notice me. I need to ask her an important question about something that's been bothering me. Absorbing Hogwart's magic, the green, brown, and blue eyes of the new Ravenclaws are wide with wonder. Andrea turns around to show the kids how to use the ladder to reach the tallest bookshelf. "Are you okay, Anna?" Andrea asks as soon as she notices me. Her braids are pulled back in a low ponytail, and her warm brown eyes reassure me that she can be trusted. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’m kind of scared,” I say. After telling the first-years to unpack their trunks in their dorms, she motions for me to sit beside her on the coffee-colored couch and asks me what’s wrong. "I... I don't know... if I belong here,” I say slowly. “It's just… I’m not like anyone else here.” “This is only your fourth year,” Andrea says. “Sometimes, it takes time to adjust.” “But isn’t four years enough time?” I ask. “Anna, just trust me,” Andrea says. “You belong here.” “But how do you know? I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be here.” “Anna,” Andrea says, almost chuckling. “You took your OWLs a year early and scored higher than most people do." “But that was easy,” I say. “Exactly,” Andrea says. “Remember Rowena Ravenclaw? She founded Ravenclaw for intelligent, wise, and creative students. Students like you. You’re top ten in your year. And remember those socks you knitted for all the teachers that one Christmas? That was insanely creative.” I smile. “I guess so,” I say, shrugging. “But…” I’m struggling to find words to explain to Andrea what was most bothering me. “What’s wrong?” Andrea asks. Her warm eyes tell me that she cares. "I just don’t fit in with the other Ravenclaws,” I say. “Well, I don’t know if I fit in with anyone else in my year—in any of the houses. I don’t even know if I’m even supposed to be at Hogwarts. I mean, both my parents are muggles. What if I wasn’t supposed to get that letter?” “Dumbledore doesn’t make mistakes," Andrea says. "He knows you’re an extraordinary wizard, and that’s why you’re here.” “Do you really think so?” I ask. “I barely have any friends. What if I don’t want to be here? What if I just go back to being a muggle and forget all about magic?” “It seems like your school years are gonna last forever, but it’s only one part of your amazing life,” Andrea says. She smiles confidently at me. “You’ll eventually find your people… maybe next month… or maybe after you leave school. That’s the cool thing about life: you’ve got to keep holding on. You’ve got to take it one day at a time and wait for the good things. And I’m always here for you. You’ll always have me as your best friend.” I yawn and stand up. “Thanks,” I say. A real smile is on my face for the first time in a while. Having someone listen helped immensely. “Good night,” Andrea says, rising. “Remember, Anna, this is your home.” She gives me the kindest hug I’ve ever received. I smile. For once, I know I have a family.