Borders

On February 13th, two-hundred bouquets of Colombian flowers go on a trip.

They are plucked from the fields of Antioquia and pushed a plane. Fasten your seat belts, they are told. They eat their pretzels, watch their movie, cross an ocean, and stop, briefly, in Miami. After some pampering, they’re packaged again. Off on their way. Another flight. A few borders later, they reach RDU. Two girls are waiting. No limo, no truck. Not even a minivan, just a Jeep Grand Cherokee. Time to squeeze. The next task involves a game of life-sized Jenga, a stacking of blocks filled with precious cargo. Somehow, they fit. The car smells like a flower shop.

The flowers stay in the Perkins Library basement. Their room: B13. One of the girls guards the door overnight.

When the world wakes, it’s Valentine’s Day. The girl guarding the door calls in an army of five. They’re on a mission. They grab bouquets by the stem, head up the stairs and out the door, shuffling across the quad, covered in flowers.

It is only after the flowers are placed in the hands of strangers that they realize this trip wasn’t really for them.

It was for someone else.

Beautiful things cross the border every day. This Valentine’s Day, it was Colombian flowers.

Many of Duke’s workers have crossed borders of their own. Some of these are closer than others.

But every day is an opportunity for us to cross a border if we take the time to. These borders are everywhere, but it’s easy to lose sight of them when we tread along with tunnel vision, on autopilot.

So look around. Make the time. Take the leap.

Unexpected kindness goes far, no matter who it’s for.

La grandeza está en las cosas pequeñas.