A Gift to Give

I feel a little ancey this morning, feeling like there's a lot to do and too little time to do it in.

It's when I feel like this that writing is hard--not as in difficult, but hard to be honest, hard to fully focus.

So I take in a big breath and let it out and begin.

Yesterday I had one of those days where I had a bit of a soul awakening, something that hadn't rustled around in me for a while. It was one of those times where I was reminded that each of us has something to offer, no matter how weird, how small, or seemingly unpopular it may be.

Once a week I help with an "after school" program at one of Rutherford County's housing developments. Of course, it's summer time, so right now it's kind of like a summer care program. Basically it means that I and other people from my church come in for about 2 hours on Tuesdays and provide any kids who are around with snacks and a craft activity. We hang out with them, talk with them, and theoretically give the employees of the center a little break.

I found out at the last minute yesterday that the lady who coordinates our crafts and art activities for the kids wasn't going to be there. My heart sank. I'm REALLY not an artsy, craftsy person. I'll write all day, I'll draw something, but coordinating children's crafts is NOT my thing. 

I'm still scarred from the tissue roses I had to make when I was 3 at some Sunday School class party. The teacher wouldn't help me make it pretty and kept telling me just to figure it out.

I hate crafts.

And then the last time this happened with this particular group, all I could come up with (after a frantic Pinterest search) was 4th of July wreaths made out of paper plates.Yeah, they were pretty lame.

So I got mad, feeling put-upon and taken advantage of. But after some prayer and sucked-in breaths, I was reminded why I volunteer here in the first place-- to be with the kids.

I'm not like Lisa-- I don't have a magic box full of paints and pens and pencils to swirl gorgeous designs on any surface. I don't have the ability to outline entire montages on paper.

But I can write. So I came up with my idea-- journals.


I found some cheapo spiral-bound journals at the grocery store and pulled together construction paper and magazines so that the kids could loosely decoupage their journals with cutouts.They would create a two-way functional piece of art.

I texted another volunteer who pulled together a bunch of sports magazines to bring. When the kids showed up, they got the idea immediately, several of them losing themselves for over an hour and a half to create their journal.

The most rewarding parts of the afternoon was a teenage boy who shared some of his poetry and journals he had written on his phone with me, and then later I saw two boys reading aloud from the magazines because they thought some wording was cool to put on their journals. These are kids who don'tdon'tdon'tdon't read if they don't have to.

Like I said, I'm not an artsy craftsy person. I'm a writer and part-time doodler, a part-time picture-clicker. But this, well, this felt natural. It was doing something I love and showing someone else how to do it and love it too. I could use my gift and give it to others, even in wacky, weird collages.

Each of us has a gift to give, I was reminded. Maybe it's beautiful artwork, maybe it's cooking, maybe it's writing. But the best way to use a gift is to give it. It's kind of amazing what can happen.