Copley Square, then and now

The first time I ventured out alone in Boston, I went to the Boston Public Library to get a library card. I accidentally got on the green line going the wrong way, and so by the time I arrived, the library had just closed. I stood on the steps, bundled up in my new winter coat, and took a photo of Copley at night with the Christmas tree twinkling white and blue. I didn't know much about Boston and didn't know anyone aside from Ian and two friends from home, but in that moment I was so content in our new city.

Almost a year later, Boston has become home. The shift was imperceptible, but I knew it had happened when I went to the library after work. I sat in the window overlooking the courtyard as I talked to my parents on the phone.

By the time I left, it was dark. I paused on the steps and looked across Copley, arrested by the old library lanterns in contrast to the glittering Hancock Tower.

That past moment, uncertain but full of hope, suddenly was juxtaposed to the present, fulfilled. I am confident. I know how to get around. I can give directions to tourists and provide recommendations for things like chowder and cannoli. I have a job that I do very well. We have favorite restaurants. We know our neighbors. We love our church. We have friends we can count on. And I have a library card.