I was being driven to church on Sundays and youth group on Wednesdays for the first decade and a half of my life but it was only a routine, nothing more. This routine has been instilled in me since I first saw the light of day seventeen years ago yet I’ve never left my metaphorical bubble. I had grown up protected and shielded from the outside world and both the horrors and wonders it holds. When I transitioned out of Mennonite middle school, I was thrown into the deep end at a school where I knew no one and I couldn’t rely on Bible class to support my values. In all honesty, I lost my way. I started to lie to my friends so I would fit in. Peers would ask me about my religion, and I didn’t deny my Christianity but wasn’t thrilled about sharing it. I didn’t stand for anything, but I didn’t sit for anything either.
It wasn’t until the end of my freshman year that I began to …show more content…
The first time I entered a patient room on the cardiac care floor, I was terrified. The butterflies in my stomach could have carried me right out the window. My only task was to pour water into squeaky Styrofoam cups and leave them on the bedside table, next to the Grinch colored Jello. The patients should have been the ones with butterflies, considering the majority of them were undergoing or had undergone a life-altering heart procedure. These people, most elderly, could be in the last years or months of their lives so why would a small cup of tap water make a difference? It wasn’t the tap water at all when I look back on it; it was the fact that I had taken time out of my day to come to a place that smelled of rotten cheese and spam; I had no obligation to be there. The small talk with old ladies
It wasn’t until the end of my freshman year that I began to …show more content…
The first time I entered a patient room on the cardiac care floor, I was terrified. The butterflies in my stomach could have carried me right out the window. My only task was to pour water into squeaky Styrofoam cups and leave them on the bedside table, next to the Grinch colored Jello. The patients should have been the ones with butterflies, considering the majority of them were undergoing or had undergone a life-altering heart procedure. These people, most elderly, could be in the last years or months of their lives so why would a small cup of tap water make a difference? It wasn’t the tap water at all when I look back on it; it was the fact that I had taken time out of my day to come to a place that smelled of rotten cheese and spam; I had no obligation to be there. The small talk with old ladies