Bedtime stories

Samantha Robinson

I’ve always been a dreamer. I’ve always thought about the “what if’s.” Even as a kid, I loved thinking about the future and how many things I had to look forward to. I dreamed of growing up and wanted nothing more than to be a big kid. I wanted to push the cart at the grocery store and walk across the street without holding anyone’s hand. Everything about getting older seemed like a dream to me. And while I liked all the fairytales and nursery rhymes, I loved all the true stories even more.

Every night before I went to sleep when I was younger, my mom would tell me a bedtime story. But I was picky and wouldn’t let her make up a happily ever after. I would ask my mom to tell me real stories. I wanted to hear about when she was growing up

or when she met my dad for the first time. I had such a fascination with stories that were true. At the time, it seemed like my mom never ran out and had an endless list of stories from her life. After every story (and all the questions that followed), she would tuck me into bed, say prayers with me, turn off the lights and leave the door open just the right amount. And when I closed my eyes, I dreamed about having my own stories to tell.

Little did I know, while I was busy writing and telling everyone else’s stories, mine were being written right before my eyes. Every decision I made, every chance I took and every friend I made impacted and changed my life story. The bedtime stories I’ll tell to my kids someday will be filled with embarrassing moments like dropping all the brownies at my first show choir reveal party, getting run over by a player during one of the first basketball games I cheered at and tripping on the stairs in front of the upperclassmen more times than I’d like to admit. My story had been in the works before, but Xavier is where the plot really became great. Xavier allowed my faith to be brought to life, and I truly started tofigureoutwhoI’mmeanttobe.

My younger self dreamed of performing on the Xavier stage, writing for The Xpress, cheering for the football team and so much more. As I turn the page to this

new chapter of life, I can say that that little girl, whose dreams were so big, would be so excited to know that those dreams aren’t dreams anymore, they’re reality. I already have so many stories to tell, and yet, life is just getting started.

While it seems like everything has changed since I was that little girl asking for bedtime stories, some things will always stay the same. I’m still a dreamer. I still think about the “what if’s.” I still think about the future. I still say prayers before I fall asleep, tell my mom and dad goodnight, turn off the lights, shut the door and close my eyes. But now, I don’t have to dream about stories to tell because I’m living them. Each and every day, my story is being written, and someday, when my future kids ask me to tell them a bedtime story, I’ll just smile and say, “Where do I begin?”