Searching
"Hello! We are here to give to the people that live on this household!" Pastor Mike said as we the volunteers gathered together. I could not help but smile as Pastor Mike made it seem like we were doing something that was really heroic and grand.
"Alright!" said the owner of the household in an enthusiastic fashion; however, something was wrong about this man. Looking around his yard, I could tell there were dead bushes that he could have easily chopped up himself. Vines that crawled up his picket fence that could have been broken apart by his own tools. I looked at the layout he had on the front porch.
"You know, I wanted to be super thankful for what you are doing!" he said, shaking my pastor's hand really hard.
All of the 8-9 year olds were scattered around the house cleaning out his yard. Pastor Mike had said that this was supposed to be like a "practice round." Personally I was not sure what he was supposed to mean by that. I thought about the family that I had seen by the bus stop the other day--the boy tapping the lamp-post with his hands, the mother in the shawl--and wondered how to approach him about this subject.
"Thank you all! Thank you very much!" said the owner of the household, shaking the hand of my fellow pastor. The rest of us volunteers cheered. I tried joining in with the rest of the crowd; however, it took much energy for me to muster out the same amplitude that the others around me had. Usually I had the same power as some of the other kids.
This time, I was an iceberg sitting in a sea of cheering children, a goose in a herd of ducks.
