Hard Experiences.

As you may or may not know, I am extremely involved in my school's ASB program. Last year, my friends Mia, Bobbi, Alex and I organized a little community sevice project that changed my outlook on life. Last mother's day, we visited a nursing home. This nursing home is actually similar to a hospital. You know, one of those places that you walk in and just feel the sadness overwhelm you.

We were able to get mny volunteer stylist to style the women's hair. We painted their nails. Alex played piano. The look in some of the women's eyes will stay with me forever. It was an amazing and life altering experience. This year, we have planned in again.

With the news spreading about my project, we needed to make sure we got more communtity and school involvment. We have added three new members to our team this year, freshmen Kylie, Courtney and Allison. We have also been able to get the community involved by going to local buisinesses and asking for donations of store credit, flowers, balloons, pots or soil. The reaction we recieved gave me the chills. These people were so excited that teenagers cared this much.

I will never forget one woman who had her hair done last year. I remember when I saw her I knew she wss very old and very sick. I felt ters build up just holding a conversation. She knows more about the world than I do and probably ever will. When she'd had her hair done, she began to cry hysterically and tell us she didn't like it. I remember Bobbi just sobbed watching. It wasn't until a few minutes later after the woman was calm and brought back to her room that a nurse approached Bobbi, Mia and myself. She told us that the woman wasn't crying because she didn't like her hair, but she was crying because of the fact that her own children would never do such a thing for her.

This woman was old and sick but she was one of the most talkative of the group. I went to her room with my friend Bobbi and she appologized and repeated the story about her son and two daughters. The only thing I could tell her was that we would visit her again. She just smiled and Bobbi gave her a hug. I don't think either of us will ever forget that moment. Bobbi went back to visit her twice, the first time the woman remembered Bobbi from the picture we'd taken, printed and framed for her that day we'd visited. The second time, Bobbi was informed of the woman's passing. Bobbi didn't cry this time, but she told me that she hoped her children had visited her again.

Another woman I remember was about 87. She was a very small, American Indian woman and she didn't speak much english. She was adorable and completely fragile. When one of the stylists, Margaret had finished styling her hair, the woman talked to her nurse and her nurse told us that she was very grateful. I smiled at her and offered to paint her nails. She agreed and simply said "Red. Red is sassy" in a thick accent. I was informed of her passing when I went to Pacific Hills Manor (the home) to plan this year's event.

This year, when we go back, I am going to make sure to make these women happy. Some of them have sad stories. Some are just older. I really appreciate the time I get to spend with everyone of them and am excited for Friday morning.