Friends Afar

          It seemed to be a usual morning when my alarm clock went off and I rose out of my bed on that fateful Friday. I came downstairs and my mom said to me,
         "You'd better see this."
          Surprised by the gravity of her tone, I follow her gaze to the TV, where a news reporter is frantically announcing that an 8.9 earthquake hit Japan, followed by a tsunami. Without a second glance, I run to Facebook, hoping to find confirmations that people are ok. My thoughts race to foreign exchange students from this year or years before. I can hardly type my password fast enough. Sure enough, there are a few posts by friends saying they're ok, but very frightened. My breath catches in my throat, and I only have time to see a few more posts before I have to get ready for school.
           When I get to school it's all any of the teachers can talk about. The same news clips play over and over again, displaying horrors hardly imaginable to us.
            My Japanese teacher is the picture of calm, calm, but worried. He knows this is bad but for now he has to be our Sensei. He gives us some good news, about his family, but there are too many question marks.
            Worry is a strange feeling, the most anxious and restless kind. You can't sit still you have to do something, anything. Most of all you just check Facebook again and again, praying that more people will post they're safe. When they do you feel part of the weight off of your chest, like taking a textbook out of your backpack and then wearing the bag again.
              I lost sleep that first weekend, and have lost sleep since, unable to stop streaming news to see what's going on over there in that country I've always felt could be my second home. Has planned to be, for two weeks.
             My life dream is starting to slip from my fingers as I realize we may not be going. Four years I've worked for this and it might not come true. I swear at the sky and wonder why something so terrible has happened. But there is no answer to that, none with anyone to blame. It just is. There are thousands upon thousands of bodies in Japan and my dream might not come true. Fate is cruel.
            I spent Monday, wandering around sort of sadly, dejectedly, wondering how life can just continue when the whole world's upside down over there. I wish I could go and help, but I know I can't. Then, Sensei proposes we sell t-shirts and possibly paper cranes. I jump on the idea, my life filled with purpose again. Here is something I can do to help.