Some of the most vivid memories that I possess are from the early years of my childhood. I can recall some aspects of my younger years as if they were yesterday.
I remember preschool; the colorful tape lines on the carpet that represented our groups for the week, how the rice box was my favorite activity, ants on a log were my favorite snack, I remember the chipping blue paint on the bathroom doors of the church basement, how I took the class's stuffed bear to pizza hut and journaled about it. My best friend was Chris. I remember perfectly what his house looked like and I could sniff out his mother's perfume to this day in a perfume line-up.
In kindergarden, phonics was my favorite game to play on the outdated computers. In first grade, I once raised my hand so excitedly that I accidentally poked my teacher directly in the eye. In second grade, I crashed my bike the week before my communion and skinned both of my knees while knocking over the elderly neighbor woman onto her already injured hip. My childhood neighbors were jerks and their dog was terrifying. His name was Fudge.
I could go on and on; but I think you get the point. The most simplistic absurdities transformed into tiny molecules of memories that have made up my entire childhood outlook.
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In november of last year, my assistant manager Zach traveled to Mexico on a mission trip with his church. He came back to work the following week proclaiming that the trip had changed his life and told me that I should go with him the following year. I agreed.
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On November second of this year, Zach and left Pittsburgh with a large group of members of his church and nearby churches. I could never have prepared myself for the experience that was about to unravel before my eyes.
We went to Mexico to help the people. Ultimately, Mexico changed us. I have never been a part of such a magnificent experience in my years on earth.
In Mexico, we worked on building an orphanage that will someday house 350 Mexican children. Zach and I spent our time building a chimney. Believe it or not, I used a block saw without losing any limbs. We also spent one entire day in Juarez, handing out food and smiles to the homeless. I handed out cookies to the children and though very few of them spoke English, nearly all of them we able to utter the words "thank you" as I placed the cookies into their bags. Some of the children hadn't eaten food in nearly a week, something we take for granted. The children were so hungry that some of them would not allow us to place the food in their bags because the craved the nourishment at that very instant.
We called this day "Mercy Day" and it was my my favorite day of the trip. It was an amazing and heartbreaking experience. It was amazing because we were able to feed so many families but it was heartbreaking because we, eventually, ran out of food and no one that was involved in Mercy Day could speak to when these human beings may be able to eat again.
For me, the trip to Mexico came at a perfect time. For as happy as I am, I sometimes find myself being caught up and brought down by the hustle and bustle of stress, work assignments and anything else that doesn't seem to play out just the way I'd like it to.
Part of my transition to Baltimore was learning to adjust to the idea that I cannot control every aspect of my life. Accepting the promotion, and now being in charge of 450 people, I quickly realized that a) you cannot influence everyone at the same time and b)change will not occur overnight. During my transition I felt like I was constantly needing things. I needed more sleep, more coffee, more time for touch bases with my teams, more hours in a day, more conference calls, more people willing to adjust. I needed more, and when I didn't or couldn't get it; I was frustrated. I forgot about the basics and the fun and I lost track, temporarily, of the things that mattered most.
Every job has its moments and days and weeks of stress. The reality is that things cannot always go the way you'd hope them to. But when I calmed down, and I looked back at all of the things that I believed I needed; Mexico helped me to realize that I may not have ever "needed" a single thing in my life. These families need food. They need water. They need hope. They need clothing. They need shelter. They need safety.
When I got back to Baltimore, I did a lot less complaining and a lot more acting. When things didn't go my way I focused on the things that were going my way; my health, my family, the fact that I had a roof over my head and a full stomach. I focused on the basics. I used every opportunity as a chance to better myself and those around me. I came back from Mexico with a new outlook on life.
I am eternally grateful for the experience in Mexico. I am thankful for the resources for which I was able to make the trip to help others. I am thankful that Zach suggested that I come with him, and that he was able to put up with me for the week. I am thankful for all of the friendships that I made along the journey. I am thankful for the small impact that I was able to make on the people of Mexico and for the great impact that they made in my life.
Here's to opening your eyes and seeing the value of the smallest things,
Xoxo
