mmm project paper

The projects that I participated in were very powerful influences in my life. I was in two of them, the warm fuzzies project and the adopt a grandparent project. Both made me think just a little bit differently, both made my day each day I began them.
The first project that I started was the warm fuzzies project. It began as one of those things that I had no idea where it was going to go. I wasn’t sure who I could serve, or give something to someone that would be meaningful to them. I have discovered through that question however, that no matter the person you serve, the joy comes to you and them. So we started out simply asking people what they like about BYU-I. We took their pictures and made them write their thoughts down. This was tough, each person had a different opinion, and some were more on the negative side. Our plan is to give the book to President Clark, so it wasn’t like we wanted him to know that we think anything negative about his pride and joy.
This school really is a blessing to everyone who walks through its doors. It is a blessing to be able to use someone’s tithing, hard earned money given to the Lord, to be here. It has given me a deeper appreciation for this school. And I think that this also helped people remember just how blessed they are to be here. One of the cards was written by a girl who was extremely reluctant to write anything. She looked at me as though I was crazy and really didn’t want to do it. However I asked nicely and she politely took the card. I left for a bit, thinking that she really wouldn’t write anything.
I returned about a half hour later and the card was on my keyboard where I had once been. I picked it up and read it, curious. It said that at first she didn’t want to write about her experience here, she really didn’t like BYU-I. But then she thought about how selfish this was, she thought that this wasn’t the reason why she was here. She talked about how ungrateful she had seemed for those tithing dollars that went into the school.
She made me think a little more about how people work so hard to get me here. It made me wonder do I repay each of them? Are they going to glean anything from my studying here? It made me want to get more out there, like with these projects, so I can find people to touch. The thing about this project is yes it technically only was to serve one person, President Clark, but I think it turned into a project of humility, for me and the people we spoke with. When someone or something brings attention blessings you don’t usually catch you are reminded how beautiful life really is, and how strong you can get it to be.
I went into this project at first thinking that serving only one person wasn’t really the goal but with hopes that I would find a way to serve others and I think that by pointing out the blessings we all receive from attending here was simply the ticket.
The second and final project I participated in was one that changed my life completely, as cliché as that sounds. I discovered a new love of mine, one that I know is here to stay, unlike most men! I had a weird experience as a young girl and I was determined that retirement homes were of the devil. I went to one with my young womens group to deliver something for some holiday, I can’t remember. But a lady said “hey, you young thing, let me talk to you for a second…?” And I didn’t mind, she seemed sweet. But she pulled me aside and said, “Quick, get out of here while you still can!!”
Thinking back on that experience I think she may have either been a little crazy or simply playing a joke on me. However this caused me to never want to return to any home like that of any kind. Old people were now on my “To-Don’t” list. But this semester caused me to revaluate that initial thought.
I wanted to do something that was out of my comfort zone, I don’t have much that is but as soon as this project was initiated I thought that will be perfect. I have a fear of homes like that, but I am older now, I can handle it. So I went into it with a cheerful heart and hoped that it would be rewarding, not only for myself and my group but the residents as well. It turned out to be more rewarding than I could have thought.
The first day I was able to go it was awkward for me. I had to talk to people I didn’t know and people who’s life I know nothing about. This sounds silly because I waitress and do this all day, but this wasn’t in my environment, it was in their homes. I was not in a places I felt secure. So the first man we spoke with was Reed, he didn’t have much to say, and had a hard time breathing. But it was special to see his face light up with excitement as new people entered the room. It was interesting to see how new people for him was simply not a problem, but I was freaking out inside. We didn’t speak with him long, it, I believe was just tough for him.
We walked a little down the hall and entered the room where the ladies get their hair done every Thursday. Some get it simply styled, some get it dyed, away from all that white and some simply go to chit chat. The same lady has been doing some of their hair for over thirty years. I got to see a bond between these ladies that went far beyond hair dresser and client, there were life long friendships evident in that room. We laughed, joked, and even teased. I remember Dorothy, a fiery red head I have grown to love, talk all about the time her late husband painted the steps on her front porch green and didn’t tell her. She sat right there in her white capris, realizing too late that strips of green now accompanied the paper white pants. We all had a good giggle.
Over the next few times we visited the times became sweeter and sweeter. They didn’t always remember us, but we remembered them and what they were teaching us. I remember feeling a genuine love from each resident as sometimes they would gather us in their arms for a more than welcomed hug, or a sincere thank you would be offered when we did something they could not.
One of my treasured memories is sitting at the piano with Janette. She is the sweetest lady who still remembers specific songs from way back when that she can play extraordinarily on the piano. There is one song I wish I could find, some probably fifties song that talks about picking your date up at a half past eight in a taxi. Dorothy would sing while Janette would play and there was a harmonious feeling there. They bonded through the art of a piano. Dorothy’s sweet, timid voice, and Janette’s power on the keys was a beautiful sight to see.
Janette would also play with me, she would laugh when I made mistakes and tease me till I made another one. It was her love, that piano, and it made a simple smile dance across my face each time I saw her veer toward the piano expectantly, waiting for us to play too!
I really feel as though older people have more stories to tell, and even more, they have better stories to tell. This experience was a time when each emotion, each positive one, came out. I felt love, compassion, silliness, sincere joy, and sometimes even a tear or two. These people taught me that no matter your age, get up and sing! Play a game, do whatever you can, and even want to, until you can’t do it anymore! Life is a beautiful thing, make sure you go out and find what you feel makes your life your own kind of beautiful.