The dark cloud of despair had been looming over me for months. Since September, I had been going through a period of trying times with my family and school. Attending classes virtually due to the pandemic, disconnected from peers and teachers, I was constantly lonely, exhausted, and dejected about most things in my life. 

But in October, I started having regular online meetings with Mrs. Sroka, my school guidance counselor. From our first meeting – no, even from our first email exchange – I immediately perceived her as extremely compassionate and warm-hearted. 

I remember our first meeting as one of the few positive experiences in my otherwise exclusively gloomy days – such a contrast, that I believe my brain chemistry changed. Her cheerful attitude pierced through the veil of my sadness like lightning: “It’s good to see you! I am so proud of your hard work. I can understand that things are tough, but I’m here to talk.”

As the months progressed, my depression lingered, but Mrs. Sroka’s kindness was a blessing. I remember feeling so appreciated by Mrs. Sroka; she was someone not only acknowledging my dire circumstances, but also providing emotional support and tools to help improve my situation.

Mrs. Sroka was constantly in contact with my teachers, making sure that their communication was clear and effective, and she advocated for more time and aid to complete my assignments and work.

In April, I was finally faced with coming to school in-person, as my family’s health risks had gone down. After my poor academic performance that year, however, I was anxious about coming back to school. But, Mrs. Sroka planned a time where I could come in during a remote-learning day, to briefly meet my teachers for the first time in-person without the added stress of work or other students. 

She helped me ease into going back to school for the last few weeks of school, and relieved my family’s concerns immensely with her excellent communication. As the school year came to a close, our meetings were less frequent, but I was comforted by the fact that she was silently keeping track of me and still making sure all was going the best it could.

I didn’t fully realize how special Mrs. Sroka was during that dire year, as I was too caught up in the whirlwind of everything. 

Now, however, I am a senior in high school. I look back at those times, infinitely grateful, for a friend like Mrs. Sroka who helped guide me through a choppy storm to a much sunnier place.