At Peace with God
- By: Sarah Zahirudin
- Created on: 09/06/2009
- Rated By 1 Users
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I never thought I would see outside the borders of Wisconsin, at least not until after college when I could afford to travel. However, I saw an opportunity when I walked past a giant poster board displaying pictures of people covered in paint, and to me, it looked like fun.
Each year a local church offers a camp that people can participate in. It usually involves a group of avid church parents trying to keep an eye on their kids, and a bunch of kids trying to get away from their parents. I was part of the latter, but the greater incentive that made me sign up was that after a week's worth of hard work, there was a free day in New York City. Never mind the 20 hour bus ride both ways; I wanted to see the Big Apple.
The camp’s called Catholic Heart Work Camp and I didn’t have any idea what it was like, but given the name, I had an idea of the type of people that went: Catholics. This year the camp was going to Kearney, New Jersey, a city of about 80,000 people. When I signed up I chose to work in the daycare because I really enjoy working with kids.
The trip there was mostly spent trying to find a slightly decent sleeping arrangement on a crowded coach bus with virtually no leg room; but once the bus pulled into New Jersey, suddenly not one person felt tired. I was surprised from the excitement the camp staff greeted us with when everyone clambered outside into the rainy afternoon. Slightly irritated and a little damp, our group was led into a crowded gym full of raucous people. The sound threw me back but I soon realized the noise: Gospel music. By this point I was hoping New York City would be worth the talk it was all about.
The work began the next day but we were placed in the groups we’d be working with the night we arrived. People came from Florida, Maryland, Connecticut, Nebraska, Massachusetts, and Wisconsin. My group consisted of Wisconsinites, a Floridian, and a Marylander, and we were placed at a no-cost daycare in a Hispanic area. However, our job wasn’t working with kids but painting classrooms since the building was doing renovations.
It was a good time. We sang as we painted, listened to music, as well as get sidetracked with a good game of Candy Land, and we really bonded as a group. The camp really emphasized the importance of doing God’s work to the poor or homebound, and by the end of the week, I felt changed.
I never saw God as someone important, and I learned I didn’t have to be an overzealous church member to believe in God, but just who I am as a person. My childhood was filled with poverty and pain, so I never thought things could get better for me, but this trip opened my eyes and taught me to forgive those who caused me pain. A staff member there helped me find the strength to forgive and for the first time in my life, I felt truly happy.
I saw that helping others gave me a feeling of satisfaction and happiness, and it’s showed me a new way of living, not with frustration or anger, but with optimism. I didn’t care what religion or views someone had, if they needed a hand, I was there to lend one. Working with my hands was now my way of praising God and I’ve never felt more at peace.
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