Page 2 of Grateful in Watch Hill
“Yes.”No.
“So, you’re volunteering, right?”
It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t an order, but I knew my friend didn’t want to hear me say no. He’d been pestering me about working the food drive for the last few days; he wanted to see me there. And it was important to the community—there was no question about that. People needed help, and food boxes were one way to meet that need.
“I’ll do it,” I replied, making a snap decision after avoiding conversation about it a few times. I wouldn’t have said I was the kind of person to do a lot of charity work or community volunteering, but even I could see the need around the area. One more thing the pandemic had brought.
“Great.”
“How long do you think we’ll be there?” I asked.
“Not sure, but Ashley and I are getting to Watch Hill Community Church around nine just in case they need help with setup.”
I thought about it.Not like I have much going on these days anyway.“I can be there at nine thirty.”
“Thanks for doing this. It means a lot.” Kyle brushed his hands on his jeans and focused on the new cannisters of weatherizing stain. “I was thinking we could work on this today, but frankly, I need a break.”
“Why don’t you let me handle it out here? I’m sure Tyler could use some help inside.”
“You’re right. Sounds good.” He smiled again. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Kyle gave me another nod, then left the construction site, leaving me alone once again. I had to admit, I was proud of what we’d done together. There was a certain satisfaction that came from seeing an idea become a reality. Unexpectedly, helping my friend with his pizza parlor had become a bright spot in my life. It had given me a sense of purpose during a time when nothing else felt normal. And while I wasn’t always a joiner, I also sensed that giving back at the food drive would feel good too.
Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad year going forward, after all.
TWO
KENDRA
Humbled—that was probablya good word to use for the current state of my life. Humbled and hungry. A bad combination.
Still, I supposed there were worse ways to reach rock bottom.
And rockbottommeant right where I was—in the car line outside Watch Hill Community Church, one of several dozen waiting for my share of a massive food giveaway organized by the leadership of the church. For the first time in my life, I was going to take food from a volunteer, a person who would hand me a box of whatever canned goods someone more fortunate had managed to cobble together in an act of charity.
Talk about humiliating.
