Dear Celina,

The last time I saw you, I helped you move out of Morris Hall. The last thing I wanted to do was go back to that hall (which had not been very good to me my sophomore year), but I wanted to see you before you left for the summer. So I helped you carry heavy boxes of clothes and books and GATA stuff.

GATA stuff in Morris Hall was what brought us together. I had left a GATA certificate with my name on it in the hall, and a year later you went snooping in the lost-and-found and discovered it. You made a point of coming to meet me at a rush, and I knew you were destined to be my little.

On Bid Day before you knew I was your big, you came to me and cried in my arms because you were stressed out. During Bid Night, you asked me to hold some candy for you. I couldn’t wait to tell you I was your big.

We were a perfect match, but not for all the normal reasons. We could not have been more different. Sometimes you drove me crazy. You were a terrible Flame, sleeping through Chapel then showing up late and without lipstick or a starched collar on your first fountain inspection. Sometimes you did dumb things, like driving all night to Dallas randomly on a Saturday night just because you wanted to “be spontaneous.”

But I could not have loved you more.

You were so loyal and faithful. You never gave up on GATA, even when you were having a hard time fitting in. You came to Lifegroup consistently even as you were dealing with a difficult breakup. When you went to Colorado for the summer, I knew you were going to be OK. You had found a good place where you could make new friends and travel to beautiful places.

I could focus on the emptiness, and how much I miss you, but instead, I keep thinking about the fullness, of how much we loved each other.  I love seeing people’s Facebook posts about you because I’m a proud big, and I just want to know everything about you. I just want to be with you and take another cute sorority picture and talk about clothes and life and Jesus. I’m treasuring every memory.

My sister in Christ, my little flame, I can’t wait to see you again.

Love, Your Big,

Haley