From: Nathan Kornelson

Our D-Group just got back from an early morning with the Gatherers organization, and it was awesome! As a Trinity Western University student, I am perpetually broke, so I love serving God with my time and energy.

The Gatherers allow me to do this, in an economical and ecologically sensitive way. By taking crops that might not sell on the North American market, freeze drying them into healthy soups, and sending them to impoverished nations, we are being responsible stewards of God’s creation.

People are awesome. Not any one group specifically, but People (with a capital “P”) in general. Every once in a while People do something so awesome it warrants a second look. I happen to be fortunate enough to have experienced first-hand just how awesome People can be.

The other morning as I was walking to my car I noticed that someone had ripped off my license plate, but since I was late for class already, I decided not to do anything about it at the time. I drove toward good ol’ T-Dub and made it about a block before my car died in the middle of the road.

Definition of awkward: you are walking to class one day, when you happen to run into one of your female friends. You engage in the typical polite conversation, until you notice a flash. There is something glinting on the ring finger of her left hand! You beam! Your friend has been dating a nice guy for a long time, and you’re delighted that they’re finally engaged! But wait, that is not an engagement ring my friend; it is a promise ring.

A promise ring?

When I first came to Trinity Western University years ago, it was my first time living apart from my home and my family. But I didn’t cry, no siree. Instead, I realized, Hey, I’m living with a dozen other guys. So we all did what guys do: we smashed stuff.

For all of September and October we destroyed our dorm, beat each other up, water-ballooned girls; you name it. That was the North Upper of old, before it was infested with broads.

Disclaimer: The professor about whom I now write is an excellent professor. He is highly respected and deserves it. However, the truth must be known.

I sat outside an office on campus waiting to confer with a history professor. From my seated position I had an especially live view of a certain professor who will in this article remain nameless. In fact, let’s call him Professor X. As I dwelt in my position of knowing, but not being known, I quietly viewed Professor X as he began a ritual that I have heretofore not witnessed since elementary school.