My name is Arianna Chavez '00 and this is my Southwestern story.

At SU there are many things you can always depend on. For me, the more memorable include the annual cricket invasion, MallBall and the many campus “improvements” (like splitting the RAC in two and then moving it across campus). My junior year, I looked forward to the completion of the Red & Charline McCombs Campus Center. The new Campus Center was to house our dining facility, the Bookstore, a new snack bar and more importantly the SU Post Office; finally finding a permanent home after years of nomadic existence. The new post office was set to expand, resulting in each student having their own box. Sadly, for me that meant saying goodbye to my current box with its little glass window, perfect for sneaking a peek to see if I had mail.

Although the location of Southwestern’s post office may have been less than reliable, I knew I could always count on its most loyal staff member, Faye. Amongst the many caring staff that make up Southwestern’s community, Faye still stands out as one of the kindest I ever met during my four years spent at SU. Not only was she incredibly sweet, but she had a memory like a steel trap! If you ever needed to know anyone’s box number, all you had to do was ask Faye.

One afternoon after we had moved into the Campus Center and the old Commons was long gone, I received a notice in my box that I had a package waiting for me. I wasn’t expecting anything from Mom and Dad that week, so it was with complete bewilderment and excitement that I approached the counter and greeted Faye, who as usual, was all smiles. Packages for any college student are like pure gold, so I carefully handed her the slip. I took the small FedEx box she handed me and as I turned to walk away, Faye leaned over and said “Promise me you won’t say where you got that, I wouldn’t want anyone else’s feelings to get hurt.” I wondered what on earth she was talking about, but still I replied “Sure, Faye” and quickly walked away, ready to open my surprise. I think I waited 10 steps before I ripped into the small box. My eyes widened in quick recognition as a small, metal mailbox door with its tiny glass window slid out of the box. On the window were four very familiar stickers that read 6-2-6-8. It was my old mailbox door! Faye had rescued it from demolition, along with the accompanying key and hinge and given it to me as a gift.

It may have been a small gesture on her part, but for me that small metal door will always be a symbol of the years I spent at Southwestern and of the people whose paths crossed mine and whose actions helped shape me into the woman I am today.