As I stood amongst the silent crowd, I craned my neck for a glimpse of the jumbo screen. I focused all my energy to my ears to let the speaker's words move me as she wished. It was an unusually warm day for January in the Bay Area; but then again, this was an unusual day. This was history in the making.
Hundreds of students took part in prayer as they followed along with the strong preacher who now took the screen. I wondered if these students had ever prayed in their life, let alone in the time since they moved away from home, yet understood the feeling in their hearts: bubbling with hope and anxiety for the world's near future. Old folks waved jubilantly at the screen before us as we excitedly watched former president George W. Bush step into a helicopter. This was history in the making, too. Maybe not for the world, but for our own little world in Berkeley. It was an experience that hundreds of us shared and will recount to our grandchildren. The two hours of inauguration ceremonies touched us all individually as we listened, lost in our own thoughts and emotions. It also touched us collectively; for finally, we all were united under a common hope for the future.
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