Humbled once again...

How often have I walked into situations this year with a big head? Too often. I believed that our presence this weekend would aid the organization more than they could have imagined. I made it about myself and thought “Lucky for them, they get to have a real program with structure this time.” Of course, I’m talking about the mothers and children with special needs club that we came to support. We had prepared games and craft. We were ready to run the show, or so I thought. Saturday morning came and just as Vira, the woman who started the club, told us how it would be the previous night, the volunteers started showing up early. Around nine the first of them showed up and I was just waking up, brushing my teeth, when I bumped into two who introduced themselves and smiled. I know I must have looked confused because they awkwardly pointed out that they knew their names were difficult to pronounce and repeated them. Snapping out of it, I smiled and nodded. “Melanie” was my response. We shook hands and I walked away feeling sheepish. These kids were not only giving up their Saturdays to volunteer at the club, but they came 3 hours early to prepare for it. That is 3 hours earlier than I would like to go anywhere on a Saturday.
More than two came to help. There were at least 10, all young adults. All sacrificing their Saturday to volunteer and work in a club for the disabled. Slowly the group of volunteers gathered and by ten in the morning they were working hard on preparing all things necessary for the club. They cleaned, planned, prepped. Hanging up a schedule on the wall, they reviewed it with us and let us know when our craft and game would fit in with the rest of their well thought-out and back-to-back activities. Asking us to sing with them at several intervals in the schedule, we practiced singing together and they again showed us where we’d be expected to step up. They certainly knew what they were doing and not only that, but they loved doing it. It was clear that they were having fun setting everything up and excited about the prospect of another club after two weeks without (it’s every other Saturday). Their energy was contagious and we all anticipated a great program.
Twelve rolled around and the participants started showing up immediately. Entering into a music charged, loving, and embracing atmosphere, the room filled until there were about 30 kids ranging from 4 years old to late-twenties. The mothers filed in as well, chatting and hugging. We all sat down on the cushions that scattered the floor (there were only two couches in the room, which didn‘t bother anyone a bit) and enjoyed some fellowship together. Once the program started, we were all introduced to the group and everyone clapped and nodded in welcome. The club continued with songs, craft, skits, games, and more. We were privileged to join in some songs, bring a craft, and bring an added game to the time. After a few minutes of the club, the mothers split and go upstairs for Bible study, while their children continue to enjoy the club. So we also brought a craft to the mothers.
It was such a blessing to be included in the club. Immediately we were accepted and welcomed in as though we had always been a part of it and always would be. This is the kind of acceptance that everyone searches for their whole life and here it was in small city in Ukraine. The kids attending obviously had difficult lives, but it was also clear that through unconditional love the club was speaking hope into each one. Genuine happiness and joy was tangible in the room. It was incredible and again, such a blessing to see. I couldn’t decide which was more amazing, the fact that ten teenagers had organized and planned the whole thing, or the fact that it was changing lives and bringing joy to so many people.
Though I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world, it made Sunday’s experiences all the harder to take in and accept. Yet I wouldn’t trade Sunday’s experiences either…