appalachia, barf, and critters...

     Ahhhh, Appalachia. After living in New Jersey for the past month, I can't tell you how relieving it is to be spending a week in West Virginia. Few people, all of whom are friendly and have the most beautiful southern twain that I'm a complete sucker for. We planted ourselves at a campsite for the week (one that has those huge cabins with about a million bunk beds, you 're familiar with this if you've ever attended a 4-H camp). And I LOVE it. Nature, walking outside to go shower, fresh air, bugs in your room. It's fabulous. Truly you can take the girl from the country, but not the country from the girl. I've really missed my small-town people. The service we're doing this week is construction/roofing/painting type jobs. The people we're serving are so giving of all they have. At my service site we destroyed and rebuilt a front and back porch, and installed new underpinning. Terry, who owned the trailer, was beyond grateful. He had a handful of health problems, but stayed outside with us the entire day to visit and share about his life. I was humbled with how much generosity he had. Immediately when we arrived he told us if we needed to go to the bathroom to use the bedroom one, because that was the better one, then proceeded to offer us water, popsicles, and basically anything we wanted in his home. The southern hospitality we experienced was outstanding. 

     I've realized and learned several concepts about myself and other people this summer. One of these has been the deepening of my appreciation for my upraising. While we were working on Terry's home, I kept thinking about how great it would be if my grandpa were there. I certainly felt like I needed him and his carpentry expertise this week. It was nice to get back to a small town such as my own, a town where the women of the church get together to prepare a meal for complete strangers. I felt at home in this community. Not only did the actions of the community members make me proud to be from a small town, but also the students on the trip further validated my appreciation for growing up the way I did. I grew up in going to a school where drafting, welding, sewing, and small engine repair is offered; not photography, robotics, or computer coding. I grew up where kids started driving when they were 12, and we would drive pickups, tractors, and four-wheelers; not BMW's at 17. We worked with our hands, and we learned to work hard and take pride in what we did. I quickly realized my week in West Virginia I had more in common with the people we were serving than those high schoolers we were leading. One kid in my service group had not even been to a Wal-Mart in his life. I feel so blessed to have grown up in a small town. To know everyone in my high school class, and see my old teachers at church every weekend. I love the fact I can return to my home, and it's really HOME. Not a lot of people have that in life. One of my favorite things in the world is going out to my family's farm, where three generations grew up. There is no where else on the planet I feel more at peace, my soul feels fulfilled knowing that this place not only serves as my home, but for everyone else in my family as well. 

          You know where else I feel most at peace? Under pressure. It's one of the reasons I look forward to being an emergency nurse. I can keep calm and collected, and I love working quickly and fluidly. Okay, where am I going with this? Luckily, because God is great and has a dark sense of humor at times, I was placed in such a situation in Appalachia. On Friday, we all loaded the vans to make a trip up to Charleston to listen to a speaker on coal mining issues. The trip is four hours round trip, and a good majority of travel includes world famous West Virginian winding roads. Because it was a long trip, I allowed the six highschoolers in my van to watch a movie on the way there. Big mistake. Twenty minutes into the trip, several kids are complaining of feeling sick, so I put the crying girl in the front with me and we take off again. Not long after that, one of my precious passengers announces he's going to throw up and I need to pull off immediately. Before I can ask if he feels like he can wait, I hear the sound of stomach contents hitting his lap, and the smell of vomit instantly pierces my nostrils. Well, fantastic. So I pull over to take care of the barf soaked kid, and a van full of five other very unhappy kids. I get everyone out, call the team leader to explain the situation, and piece out my options. There is vomit everywhere, and not even a fast food napkin to clean any of it up. I calmly explain to my van load that we'll pull off at the nearest Wal-Mart to get towels, new clothes for this kid, and Clorox wipes. So that's exactly what we did, missing only ten minutes of the speaker we were traveling to. God always has nice ways of reminding me that He wants me to be a nurse, and I usually thank Him with a smile and trying not to throw the bird.