Wednesday, April 18, 2012

American Girl

Last week I gave up...


Not for very long...really just for a couple hours.  But yes, instead of walking over to the shelter for my usual Wednesday lunch shift of canned corn and conversation, I stayed in bed, pulling the covers up over my head while I quietly hid. 


Perhaps exhaustion had led me to that point as I had spent the previous week immersed in hours of Easter liturgical music and rather than relaxing that Monday, I cantored a funeral, taught lessons and went to a choir rehearsal and Tuesday was more of the same. I was tired.  However, my angst went beyond that. I felt as though the weight of the world was in my backyard, piling up into one big stinky pile of.. well..  poo.  I was still walking past garbage all over the street, I was still aware of the people sleeping under the bridge, I was still watching drug deals out my bedroom window,  I was seeing the same gang kids gather on my corner, I was witnessing cops cussing people out rather than setting an example of integrity, I was still reading hateful jaded comments on different Uptown blogs. And I was overwhelmed by the world of woes, hunger, war, anger, bigotry, fear, stupidity...so much hurting and such hard callouses..


I was contemplating things in my own life as well, fading friendships, and lost connections, blurring memories becoming less dependable and changing with the passing time. I was worrying over my own future, confused as to why I felt dissatisfied with the pace of my accomplishments and clueless as to how to change.  Despite the fact that my issues were self imposed, I felt so much pressure.


Last Wednesday I couldn't solve a single problem.. not my own nor anyone else's.  I simply gave up.  However, after hiding under the blankets for two hours, I felt worse. So I got up and gave up on giving up.


This morning I felt some of the same woes, only there was one small detail forcing my lazy ass out of bed and off to the shelter.  Earlier in the week, a family of one of my students had packed up all of their beautiful American Girl dolls and filled the trunk of my car. Today, little Ashley was getting an American Girl and I would get to witness.  I worked in the kitchen, spending the lunch shift cutting pork and chatting with our newest volunteer who was at the start of his 200 hours of court ordered community service in response to his DUI.  We had middle school volunteers from Our Lady of Mount Carmel, who cut bread as though they were channeling all of the anger they had acquired in their young lives, and I chatted with one of their moms about the joys of motherhood and teenagers.


I waited for the cafeteria to clear,  before setting down my knife and wiping my hands. I left the kitchen and sat in the chair next to Ashley, pulling a bag from behind my back.  I watched her eyes widen as she pulled her new doll in for a gleeful excited hug.  I selfishly soaked up all of her happy energy, storing it in my tired heart. In giving to her (thanks to my student!!!) I found renewal. 



“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.”





Martine..  Ashley thanks you!!!