At the end of last summer, I had the chance to be a crew chief (aka a counselor for the high school campers) at SpringHill. I couldn't have asked for a better group of kids to be a crew chief for. Yet it was a challenge at times to figure out what was going on with these kids and why they acted the way they did. There were also the moments when I was lucky enough to get a little glimpse of what they had experienced during their lives. In those moments when I got a glimpse of what they had experienced, I began to understand where these kids were coming from. During those challenging moments, all I could do was pray that I knew how to connect with the kid(s), and help them. Those were times I often forgot to remember that I'm not perfect, and that these kids will learn more if they knew that I didn't have all the answers.
There was that one question that a camper asked last summer that got me thinking: Do atheists go to heaven? That was one question I didn't have the answer for at the time, and it was a question the bugged me. So I reached out to a former pastor from my home church, and she had a great answer to the question of do atheists go to heaven.
After camp was over, and I was back at home, I was hired to work for an after school program. What I hadn't realized walking into the interview for that position was that the director had worked at SpringHill years ago. It was clear when we talked about SpringHill that we both had fond memories of the place and the people.
I didn't expect what happened in September. I interviewed for a position as a cook at a local senior living facility, and was offered the job. This meant I'd be working 37 hours a week, and wouldn't be able to work for the after school program. I ended taking the job, and found that I loved the residents, and enjoyed being around the people I worked with. At some point along the way, my hours were cut and I began looking for a second, part time, job. April 1 came, and I was let go. That was hard. The first week of not having a job to look forward to going to was the worst. I had gone from having a job where I enjoyed myself, and was able to do something positive to suddenly not having anything to do but look for a job. That first week I felt like I was going crazy not having a few shifts to work. The second week got easier because I started getting interviews. Yet nobody was offering me a position.
As time passed, and I knew that I'd be going back to SpringHill this summer, I got to thinking.
At the end of last summer I had no idea where the upcoming year would take me. I didn't know that I would spend a month chasing a bunch of middle school kids around a school gym after school, coloring with them, talking with them, helping some with their homework, and loving every minute of it. I didn't know that I would spend six months of my life working with a bunch of people who were old enough to be my grandparents, and who became like a second family to me. I didn't know that when one of those residents died, that I would go to a visitation, and have a great conversation with his wife while taking her back to the senior living facility. Did I know that I would be going back to SpringHill for a third summer? Did I know that I would buy a car? Did I know that in being let go from one position, I would begin to think about what I wanted to do in the long run?
In being let go, I realized that maybe finding a job or two to get me through the next few years would be helpful. After all, I began to realize that I really enjoy working with food and with people. It was towards the end of my time at the senior living facility that I realized that I might want to go to culinary.
If there is one thing I realized, it's that in the curve balls that life throws us, we often can learn about ourselves.
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