Sunday morning at church, we had our annual pancake breakfast. A morning in which all the high school students going on mission trips over the summer make and serve pancakes to people who donate to our trips! It's a lot of fun, and I spend a lot of the time going around the tables and asking people if they need anything: "can I get you more pancakes?" "are you finished?" "do you want more orange juice?" etc. Occasionally, I get into conversations with people, talking about the mission trips, SHYG, pancakes, or anything. The goal is to be friendly, pleasant, helpful, and maybe answer any questions about our mission trips they may have. This year, three of my experiences with completely different people really stood out to me in three different ways, and I want to write about each of them.
An foreign couple started a conversation with me, asking what the pancake breakfast was for. As we got to talking, they ended up asking me about my life and telling me about theirs. Through their thick accents, I was able to understand that the man went to Northwestern University to study to be a doctor, but changed his mind and went into art. He is now an artist, and he showed me a brochure of some of his work and displays at The Art Center. Knowing next to nothing about art, I simply smiled and responded with polite interest, but having no idea who this man was. He told me I was beautiful and that he wanted me to model for him, so he gave me their number. I have no interest in being an artist's model, so I had no intention of calling. After the conversation was over, I ran into my youth pastor and he looked at me with huge excitement in his eyes, exclaiming, "you talked to Shee! How was your conversation? What did you talk about?" I gave him a puzzled look, and pointed to the couple I had been talking to, asking if that was who he was talking about. He proceeded to explain to me that I had just had a conversation with a world-renounced, incredibly famous artist. I was in complete shock. Then I realized that he wanted me to model for me, leaving me hugely humbled and flattered. Now, I am not going to call him because I still have no interest in being an artist's model, but what a surprisingly special experience. Just by being friendly, I had a conversation with a man that many artsy people would do anything to have a conversation with.
I do not remember specific details, but I got to small-talking with a woman who I did not recognize in the least, but apparently has been going to our church for a while, and certainly knew who I was. She told me that when she used to watch me years ago in the plays that I did at church, she would always think, that girl is going somewhere; she is going to be quite the actress someday. I cannot even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I know that I have left that part of me behind due to circumstances out of my control and my own feelings of failure, but I care so much. To hear such a touching comment from a woman who has no idea how much acting has meant to me and how much that has changed made me feel like I actually did succeed, at least somewhat. She will never have any idea how much her saying that to me means to me.
The third experience is with someone I have known since she was born: Autumn. Autumn is the middle school pastor's third daughter; she just turned four and is full of spunk and love. My family is good friends with their family, and I have babysat their four kids a number of times. At the end of the pancake breakfast on Sunday, Autumn was my little buddy. She clung to me and we played and laughed as room gradually cleared until it was nearly empty. What I absolutely loved about my time with Autumn were her little hugs. As I carried her around, every time I would say something that she liked, do something she thought was funny, or create any sort of positive feeling in her, she would wrap her little arms around my neck and give me the biggest hug. It felt so lovely to know that I was making her happy, that she loved me, and that she would love me pretty much no matter what I did. Her hugs made me so incredibly happy because they were entirely genuine. She hugged me purely because she wanted to give me hugs, and just thinking about how often she wanted to give me those hugs makes me feel genuinely loved. They weren't forced, fake, or systematic hugs, but loving, genuine, and completely joyful hugs. I couldn't help giving her the biggest hugs that I could back, and doing everything I could to continue making her happy.
No comments:
Post a Comment