Sometimes, we see people with significant life experience as the only ones capable of offering advice about time. However, those who have much more life ahead of them can also provide mind-blowing insights, like the one I heard a week ago: “My sweatshirt may be stretched, but I will have the memories.” This quote requires some context. It was kind of sunny outside, and the girl I just quoted is no more than 14 years old. She wanted me to stretch her jogger so she could join hands with her friends through her sweatshirt. My first thought was about her sweatshirt rather than the memories she could treasure, so I asked if she knew her hoodie might now be a little bigger on her.

After she said that quote, which seemed like a simple request, it reminded me of what it felt like to be that age, wanting to laugh until my stomach hurt. Sometimes, I wonder about that same concept of time. It’s something you can never get back, but at the same time, it seems infinite when it really isn’t. It’s like when a friend who’s going away to college still has two years left in your country, but in what feels like a moment, you’re giving them a goodbye hug. I look at him and see that all his effort paid off—the SAT and TOEFL classes, fighting for an extra point in his grade, giving Model UN classes. It seems to me that he is now seeing the fruits of his labor. I have no pictures of my last dinner with him because, in my mind, it didn’t feel like it would be the last one.

If you looked at my photo gallery from last week, you would see a teen having fun at the 2024 International August Executives Conference with her new and old friends. You’d also see countless pictures taken with a digital camera and a million texts saying “see you soon.” But looking at the pictures wouldn’t tell you how nervous I was, how much I was looking forward to signing my name in the executive body book, or how proud I was of my friends doing amazing things.

Many times, things are what they seem, but often, they’re not. It’s not only about what we see in a picture, a hug, or an ask. It’s about the process of getting to that moment, the time it took to arrive there, and the memories that will come from it—because sometimes, those moments were so good they passed by too quickly.