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"Well, Libby, it is time to go to church," my dad said. I dressed myself in my usual attire--a white dress, white stockings with a pink ribbon in my hair.

As we were driving, I noticed the same family waiting by the bus stop.

"Kind of weird that these people stay around here for what seems to be every single day," my dad commented. I thought about having him stop here, but I figured it would be too strange of a request. This time I saw that the overweight boy was waiting while holding the hand of his mother.

I noticed that my mother was rummaging through the numerous papers and pencils that were scattered around the drawer of the car.

"What are you looking for, honey?" my dad asked.

" I am looking for that advertisement for the food pantry," my mother said. She seemed desperately trying to search for it; however, her efforts seemed to be in vain.

My father started moving the steering wheel. "As much as I do wonder what is going on with them, it may not be hunger they are looking for, hon. We need to get there before we are late."

My dad seemed to be at the winning end. I watched as the family began drifting off in the distance.

The pastor spoke at the center of the pulpit, but I did not have any time to pay much attention to what he was saying. The family was still inside of my head.

What if I had the guts to actually go and introduce myself to them? Would that really make any difference? I looked up at the pastor.
"It is so often that we forget that God calls us to do something that is challenging and difficult; something that is counter-intuitive to what we most often desire in our life."
Only half of my attention was on him; this was a familiar message that I had heard numerous times, yet for some reason it went deep into the billows of my soul that I had not remembered feeling before.

I walked into the darkness of my room. It usually was not like me to desire to be alone inside of my room. Most of the time I wanted to be around my friends, enjoying the freedom of the outside, but Pastor Mike's answer still lay on me.
"If you confidently think you are hearing from the voice of God, then spend some time in prayer within the closed doors of your room, and maybe He will answer." I wondered about this answer for some time. It was just a family that was standing outside. They were just our newly-moved-in neighbors. I thought it a bit silly that I was trying to sit alone in silence trying to hear from this voice.
"Do you really want me to go towards this family?" I asked. My answer seemed to float to the top of my ceiling. I heard nothing but silence--almost as if the ceilings prevented my question from reaching the other realm.
That is, if there was another realm. My head shook with the sudden thought that had entered into my brain. I breathed a deep sigh. From the center of my window I could make out the family. This time I could see that the boy was back in his previous position tapping with relentless speed at the pole in front of him. I'm going to do it, I thought. No matter what happens.

The sun shined down as I walked outside of my home. Funny, I thought, because down inside of me it seemed bleak and rainy. I crept up to the bus stop knowing that there was not going to be any vehicle that would be waiting for me.

I looked over to see that Farmer Dave's beehive was still active. Several honey bees flew over me as they made their way to the artificial sweet substance inside of the hive. I crouched low and peeked my head, trying to see between the bars that prevented the bees from being visible. The bees scurried about. It gave me a sense of peace inside of me.
The boy by the bus stop still struck his hands up against the lamp post; anger seemed to seethe inside of his body. I had never felt such fiery emotion before. With a thrust of energy in my sinew, I went forward to the unknowable.
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