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HolyCowNarrative

Page history last edited by PBworks 14 years, 11 months ago

In tenth grade, a youth group came into my grasp. A friend of mine told me all about this group that I could join through our church called Diocesan Youth Council of Pennsylvania. This council was a group of youth around the same age as me who put together events and service projects for the youth around the diocesan. There was one particular project that stuck with me through out the years.

 

Every year we would have a large service project that we would set up. It was called Seeking Servants. During my junior year of high school there was this one Seeking Servants where some of us got to make packages and take them over to a Shelter for people that needed protection from parents and/or significant others. It opened my eyes to the world and made me see that I was glad to be there helping these people that had been through tons of torment and stress throughout their lives.

 

It was eight in the morning when we all woke up that day, not actually knowing what we were going to do or see, but ready for anything. We spilt up in to groups of about forty people, each group going out to do something different. Mine was destined to the shelters…but before we went there we went to another church to get the care packages ready that we were to bring to them made. The packages we made were pretty normal, just the basics for living. Such as, toilettes and a hairbrush, some things to be entertained with and then we made a ton of fresh homemade cookies. As I sat there putting things in bags and baskets I started to realize how many things I took advantage of and started to see what a little bit of how people that are not as fortunate as me have to deal with not always having a toothbrush or soap and just simple things like that. We finally finished the packages and they were ready to go off to the shelter.

 

Not all of us in the group could go because of the state of neighborhood that we were heading towards. The people from ninth grade and below had to stay behind as the rest of us got onto the bus to go make the drop. As I sat on the bus and watched the streets go by, my nerves got worse and worse. The streets got shadier and there were people that acted like they were up to no good on corners every once in a while. And then I realized this is where I was going. I was going right into the heart of this dark and shady neighborhood. But even though I knew all this, I still really wanted to do what I came there to do. I wanted to help them. It was my job to help them.

 

The bus finally arrived, but we weren’t allowed off the bus. We had to wait until we got in touch with people inside to let them know that we were here. Two minutes past and we’re still sitting on the bus. Starting to get freaked out, why we’re will still on the bus? Why couldn’t we just walk inside? People were walking past us; they all gave us evil stares. As if they were thinking “why are they here, they don’t belong here.” Ten minutes had past. Now I was freaked, all I wanted to do was go. I wanted to help the people but this was getting freaky. Finally, after sitting outside the building in our little bus for a half a hour, a very large man who had to have been at least 6 foot and be around 250 pounds came up to the bus. He stated that he was there to escort us into the shelter. My heart stopped. Where was I that I need an escort from one place to the other when they were only about ten feet maybe a little more apart?

 

I walked into the building, it looked much more pleasant then the surrounding neighborhood. The group of us was brought into a room where there some of the residences were waiting for us. My heart lifted. As we brought in the care packages they all seemed to be graciously happy and excited. As we gave them the packages we got to hear their stories of why they were sent there and what we should do to make sure it never happens to us. As I sat there listening to the stories I thought how lucky and lovely my life really was. I always use to think how crappy things were for me (when they were actually bad) but after that I truly realized how blessed I was.

 

After being at the shelter for a decent 2-3 hours we got back on the bus with amazement on our faces. We were all completely silent the whole way home. With the stories that we heard and the events that had happened to us we would never be able to reiterate but it would always be with us and a part of us, making and shaping us to who we really are.

 

Now I’m at Penn State in the nursing school learning to become someone that will help people when they need it. Maybe it’s not the same type of help that I gave people before, but from that experience made a deciding factor in what I was going to major in. So even though I helped people that day, they were really helping me at the same time.

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