My Red Ribbon
November 13, 2023
Writer: Anushi Varma
Editor: Natalia Pinto
My first Thursday night, the day after I moved into my freshman dorm, I’m walking down Observatory St. with my roommate, breathlessly anticipating my first college “going-out” experience. In the span of moments, my roommate and I bump into a group of girls, a few freshmen living in the dorm just across the street from us. We band together and by the end of the night, our group has been filtered down to me, my roommate, and one of the girls from the original group we met. Press fast forward to the next morning and my roommate and I can only somewhat remember the girl from last night’s name and little clue how to find her on social media. So, we enter the dining hall for a well-needed breakfast, and as we scan for free tables, lo and behold, we see her and her roommate with two seats open next to them. Like a lightbulb flashing on, we happily recognize each other and take a seat. Over fresh fruit, cereal, and waffles we debrief the previous night, and the rest is history.
I’ve been asked countless times how I met my best friend on campus. The truth is I can only sketch a rough picture because after so much time I can hardly remember what it was like first meeting her before we became as close as we are today. At the same time, I can scarcely believe that I met her with such randomness, such blunt chance. You’re telling me that in the darkness of a Thursday night on a crowded street in Ann Arbor, we somehow stumbled into each other at just the right time-unbelievable.
That’s why I choose not to believe in chance. Chance is a loose word: broad, vague, unsatisfying. Instead I have reason to believe in destiny. For some context, I like to think back to my favorite childhood book, Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, and a beloved myth introduced in the story. The tale features a God-like figure named the Old Man on the Moon. Besides possessing a book that lists all of the people on Earth and their corresponding fate, the Old Man on the Moon ties red ribbons between clay pawns that represent people on Earth. A red ribbon tied between one person to another foreshadows that at some point in their lifetime the red ribbon, which cannot be tangled or broken, will pull them closer and closer until they inevitably meet. Eventually, a maze of red ribbons is devised from pawn to pawn on the Old Man on the Moon’s end, representing the vast number of people we are destined to meet at some point in our lifetime.
The red ribbon is a visually and tangibly appealing symbol. I can practically see and feel the red ribbon, silky and stringent, between myself and my best friend the night we met. I create a newfound story of us receiving our University of Michigan acceptances, the red ribbon tied between us stretching from her end in California to mine in Illinois. Our red ribbon grows shorter as it pulls us closer to each other when we move into our freshman dorms, only a street apart. Finally, the red ribbon shrinks to its shortest as we bump into each other that exciting Thursday night. Now, when I walk next to her, I can imagine the red ribbon wrapped around our ankles, moving back and forth in satisfying synchronization.
I see the red ribbon between not just myself and her, but my other best friends from my hometown and on campus. I was meant to meet the best people in my life, and I rest easy in faith that I will continue to run into people on the other end of my red ribbon whether it’s tomorrow or years from now. So, the next time you meet someone just by “chance”, remember they might be at the other end of your red ribbon. That’s the beautiful ribbon quality of life.
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