Libraries, Africa and Porn

I met a librarian yesterday who asked me about my trip with Eric. When I was done telling a few stories she told me the year had clearly changed my world view and because of that I should write a book.

I laughed and tried to play it off but in truth I love hearing those words. It strokes my ego—fat and thick, plump and wide. I know I shouldn’t let it. But I love having strangers tell me my life is novel worthy.

…

I spoke with a girl the other night who told me she loved to travel.

I asked her where she had been and her voice got quiet. Almost ashamed, she said she hadn’t traveled very far or long.

“Nonsense,” I declared feeling like the morale authority. “We all have stories to tell. Where have you gone?”

“Well I just finished an eight month trip in Africa and Eastern Europe,” She whispered sweetly, humbly.

“Oh, wow!” I mouthed shocked. What do you mean you haven’t traveled very long or far? That is amazing.”

“Well it felt like a short time. There was just so much to learn.”

“So what did you learn?”

“Well I am still working on it… but it taught me to listen. It showed me how to love people.”

…

Trying to act grounded with the librarian I changed the subject. “So what in your life has changed your world view?”

“Oh, defiantly my job,” she declared. “The library is so diverse. Everyday between our walls and stacks we have lawyers demanding legal cases, plumbers researching how to open a business and homeless individuals surfing the net to looking at porn.”

“Really?” I said, surprised by the latter.

“Oh yeah! The other day we had to kick a man out for 90 days because he was masturbating at the computer.”

…

I am learning for every story I have there is always someone with one better.

-Kent-

The joy of serving others

I took a group of kids to the Rescue Mission today and it “sucked” at first! Or at least the kids said so.

Whether it was miscommunication or pure old-fashioned forgetfulness, the organization was not ready for us.

So rather than work, we sat there. On a concrete floor in between an eight foot tall stack of plastic covered mattresses and a pyramid of 1983 Zennith Tri-Color TV’s, I sat with 15 rowdy, “I would rather be skateboarding than sitting next to this ‘hobo’ stuff” preteens.

I was pissed. But I refused to let the kids see that. We were there to serve. I wanted this to be a positive experience for them. Service has helped define who I am today. I wanted them too to experience the joy of serving others.

And when the man who was in charge finally showed up an hour later, and yes I really mean 60 minutes, they didn’t even have a project for us to do. So they had us take previously folded T-shirts out of one box, refold them and place them into a new box.

Some of the kids asked me how this was really helping anyone else. I stumbled over my words. I wanted so badly for this to be a positive experience that I tried to force something. But I just spit and stuttered.

My heart blackened and mind cleared. And just as I felt numb to the experience, one of the kids asked a question. He wanted to know if he could put a quarter in a pair of pants’ pocket. He thought it would be a nice surprise for a homeless man or woman.  He said it might make their day.

I went to the Rescue Mission because I wanted to demonstrate the joy of service to my kids but in the end it was one of my kids who displayed authentic love and compassion.

I don’t know who will end up finding that quarter but I hope it makes their day. It sure made mine.

Kent