Small Town Love

The year is 2003. I am a high school senior in a small town. I’m probably wearing LEI’s and white Airforce 1s. I am popular and involved in my high school. Life is good. Each year my school gives a “Senior Gift.” For one group it was a set of encyclopedias. Another graduating class donated beautiful flags from all over the world as décor for the school.

But one senior’s mom had an awesome idea. As a board member of Habitat for Humanity in our town she asked a core group of us, “Why give a gift everyone’s gonna forget in a few years? Why not give a gift to the whole community…….a Habitat house?!”

We thought it would be great! Then reality set in….How on earth could we raise enough money to build a house- much less have it completed to by the time we graduate? Hell, a lot of us were already potheads and drunkards- although high achieving and well-meaning. It looked hopeless. Even to our original core group that met and discussed it. We circulated the idea and was met with mixed reviews. Some were gung-ho. Others (including some teachers) told us to our faces we would never be able to do it. But something remarkable happened. Our core group grew. And grew. Until we began to meet weekly in teams. We sold biscuits every Friday morning at school for months. Thanks to a local Burger King and Sunrise. We held a concert with local show choirs and chorus acts. We held a dance at the school where we somehow secured a popular radio DJ from a Hip Hop/R&B station in our area. The ball is really rolling at this point. Slowly but surely area factories began to donate building supplies. Before you know it we broke ground. Some came and painted. Others hammered. Others brought lunches. But all worked. Worked like nobody’s business for a woman and her son who were previously freezing to death living in a cinder block building. Working as a daycare teacher her wages would never have been enough to secure her a home of her own- or even at that point a suitable one to rent. But little by little. Piece by piece. Dollar by dollar. Fundraiser by fundraiser all those small contributions turned into a home she could own and be proud of.

When I came home from college I would ride by. Just to see if she was still there. The house was a monument to working together and the power of gradually accomplishing something great. I never knew it would stick with me the way it did.

Fast forward a few years. I moved back to the area of my hometown. I was looking for childcare for my 2 small children. I finally found a place that could take both my 4 and 1 year old! I was psyched. But that was a small thing compared to the full circle moment I experienced. That lady all those years ago who we strove to build a house for was there! Ready and waiting to be the teacher my 4 year old needed. I couldn’t believe it. I felt blessed beyond measure-because I was. Remembering her sweet spirit and humble gratitude let me know my daughter (who struggles with behavior at times) would be okay without me! In the end, a series of small good deeds poured out into a large blessing. Which came back around to me in the form of life lessons and a safe haven for my kids.