Exiled Funnies Editor
The world is made up of two kinds of people: those who have forgotten me, and those who never knew me. I would like to change that, but alas I have only this short letter in which to do it.
My name is Reuben Ng. As a child I was quite young. Shortly afterwards I grew up. Currently, I am older. I have a birthday annually. I have a head, arms and legs (two of each… wait, not the head).
Now that you know me, I suppose I should get on with the circumstances of my easily overlooked state.
I am on Study Service Term.
My apologies, I should have warned you to sit down, swallow any beverages, and place delicate items down. But the fact remains: I am on SST.
You might be asking where I have gone on SST. Well, while it certainly matters to me, it should hardly be relevant to any of you. Quite frankly, I am here and you are not—I’m sure you have more than enough things to be concerned with where you are. For the Record, however…heh…good one, eh? Excuse me. For the record, I am in China. Specifically the city of Nanchong in Sichuan province.
I suppose I’ll indulge your curiosity and give a brief summary of SST here. There are many people, the food is spectacular (especially when compared with descriptions of the equivalent in Peru) and the language—like the traffic—is outrageous.
But the point of this letter is not to describe my surroundings. It is simply to inform you all that you probably have forgotten me. This is not, I realize, the whole story. There are a great many students at Goshen College who have not even seen me!
If you’ll take a look at the visage in the associated photo, you’ll see what a mercy this has actually been and understand why so many have no doubt chosen to forget me. However, I do still want to make myself known to all the first years at Goshen College.
I exist! And I have for quite some time now!
Not long ago, I myself was a first-year. Then something occurred; it all happened so fast… From what I’ve been told, I was a second-year and a third-year. I still don’t quite accept this, but they have pictures.
At any rate, my good first-years, remember that out there somewhere, lurking over the horizon, I am wandering around forgotten and probably lost.
And to everyone, I bid farewell. If nothing else, remember me as the one who wrote this woeful little epistle. Goodbye.
P.S. Can’t make it to hymn club again, Bobby.