Last year, I found myself in tears on a grassy hill on the Carnegie Mellon campus, attempting to make it through the final morning of the Open Engagement conference. I believe it was you, Rachel, who approached me. You provided me with every sort of support and reflection I needed in that moment, as I faced all the fears and unknowns that ensued after learning my four year old nephew was not waking up in the hospital after having a major seizure. While I was away from home and out of touch. You gave me the Free Pass so I could utilize it on my rush home that day, on busses and through terminals and in a plane. When I got on a bus and lacked the fare, I clung to the Free Pass. While I sobbed on the place I felt my pulse against the token. Over the next year (plus some), as I struggled through various processes, and as we learned of my nephews diagnosis while watching his recovery, I carried the Free Pass in my pocket or left it on my desk, using it and needing it for the reassurance it provided me: that kindness is always an option and a potential. That everyone needs it at different moments, and that I can provide it. That sometimes I need to provide it to myself. Just a few weeks ago, I finally reached a point where I felt I could pass it on. I mailed it to someone who needed the same affirmations, an individual whom I had long been disconnected from. Their appreciation knew no words.