a part of me

As the hours have turned to days, and days have turned to weeks, the summer sun might make the days longer but it's still been nearly a month since I returned from England. Coming home this evening after a week visiting family in Tennessee, I found, tucked away in the huge basket of mail on our front porch, one of those infamously stamped letters: 67p, The Queen's silhouette, Royal Mail. I had a letter from England!

As Brits do not feel the need to use return addresses, I gathered only from the rather girly handwriting on the envelope that this letter was not from Jon and opened it curious as to who it might be from. Such a  letter could have only come from an English girl. A southern English girl, actually, and Becca's familiar words made me smile.

"Please don't stop writing your blog, as you now have to write it for us!!", she added at the end. And I realized she was right.

I haven't really known what the say the past month, to be honest. Being home is good, and weird, and...and if those are the only words I know to use then what's the sense in writing?

Leaving to "study abroad" for six months, before leaving, felt like exactly that: spending one semester out of college doing my studies in another country, then returning home, and resuming life as usual. But then it actually happened, and six months passed quicker than ever before, and now I find myself trying to drink hot tea in 100 degree weather and calling the interstate a motorway and being made fun of for using the word "quite". My world has been quite turned upside down!

England has become a part of me.

As much as I grew fond of the simpler, slower pace of life and the beautiful landscapes of rolling countryside and old, cobblestoned city, these alone would not have done it to me. I really liked those humongous laundry drying lines everyone had in their back garden, and calling it a back "garden", and having tea out there sometimes when people would invite me over. I really liked scones, football, and riding the train. And only an American could like the instant feeling of unprecedented classiness wrought by use of the word "rubbish".

As much as I hate to admit it to my English friends, I went back to saying "trash" at risk of otherwise sounding like a pretentious fool, and I admit I love riding in the car. And gas (aka petrol) is cheaper here. These things might have changed me, but not the kind of change I am talking about.

The things that have changed me are, in fact, not things at all. Rather, they are people: people with names like Becca and Jon. Laura and Paul. I could go on and on. There are many. Whether I knew you in a big way or small, you made England the place that I grew to love. And the place that is now a part of me.

People that let me sit with them at my first Christian Union meeting, people that invited me to hang out when I didn't have any other friends, people that helped me when I didn't know what was going on in class, people that invited me to their homes, people that made me dinner, people that made me smile by making fun of my "hey girl" American accent, people that prayed for me, people that let me pray for them, people that let me invite myself to their churches, people that loved me, and people that I loved back.

England is a part of me because its people are a part of me, in a million very different ways.

I come from a place that is known for its hospitality, and I have been quite impressed. And inspired. Inspired to welcome others in the same way.

I love yall. Thanks ♥