How often I find myself saying I wish I had take a moment to say something nice to a student or a group of students because I felt they had done something special. We all get so wrapped up in our daily toils that simple thank yous and bravos get buried in the sand or snow.

Yesterday as I left the parking lot near the Penn State golf course, I felt it was time to slow down and say thank you to the many students I just haven't taken the time to thank earlier. I also needed an opportunity to give special thanks to a young Penn State student policeman who reminded me with his kind actions that it was time to slow down and write this letter.

Last Fall, I met several University students while I served on the host committee for the NAMES Project. Many of you visited the AIDS Quilt, which is a part of the NAMES Project. But I don't know if you noticed the large number of University students working with the host committee in every capacity possible. I remember sitting at my table and thinking what a great group of students they were.

As many opportunities as students have to do things far less worthy than working for the NAMES Project, more than a hundred students put lots of time -- and more important -- care and compassion into making the AIDS Quilt visit an extraordinary success.

I often wished I had taken a moment to tell the group that worked closely with me how proud of them I was. I never really took the time; even though I think of them often, I should have told them that their families should be proud.

Wednesday, Feb. 23, was not an easy day for most Penn Staters. Just getting to class or work was a chore. Little did I know that the dangerous, annoying trip up North Atherton Street would not be the last fight of the day with Mother Nature. After a day of meeting with students, I made my usual trip to the parking lot. Low and behold my beloved Oldsmobile decided that the snow was too high and too slippery, and it had no intention of moving.

Great. Standing at the entrance to the parking lot was a Penn State student policeman, most likely putting in the dreaded work-study hours. "Shall I ask him for help I thought? I know he isn't paid to deal with stubborn cars in the parking lot."

Nonetheless, I slid over and asked: "Do you think you could give me a hand; I don't want my car to slide into the car beside me." With the most welcome smile I have seen since Santa Claus, he replied: "Sure."

He waltzed over to my car, and as I tentatively touched the accelerator he pushed the car out of the snow. You think work study or minimum wages cover pushing cars out of snow? I doubt it. He could have easily said he needed to stay near his post and let me deal with the situation the best I could. This was not the choice he made.

As I pulled out of the lot and looked back and yelled thank you, I saw again very clearly, all of those students from the AIDS Quilt. I was yelling at him and them. Many of you, students and staff, have qualities that only good, strong and compassionate people have. Don't abandon them because many of us are too busy to yell thank you.