Saturday morning was the annual Salvation Army Omelet Brunch. For the past few years, my mom has gone down early to help. My dad, sisters, and I have then come down a little while later and we have eaten breakfast together. This year, though, the routine changed a little bit. I was old enough to help.
My mom and I arrived at the old brick building bright and early. We signed in, picked up red aprons, and went into the chapel. Tables were set, coffee was being made, and my mom explained to me what would happen.
There were three main jobs: Filling cups, swapping baskets running low on donuts for baskets full of them, and clearing dirty place settings.
I am not very outgoing, especially with strangers. Quiet usually describes me. Not shy, but quiet. This, added to the fact that I was by far the youngest person there, made me thankful for my mom. Things sounded simple enough with her there walking me through it. If I had any questions (or problems) I could simply ask her. She was my comfort zone.
Then the peaceful chapel transformed into a dining room. There were more and more cups to fill. More and more baskets to exchange. More and more place setting to clear.
I found myself on the opposite side of the room as my mom. She was close, but not close enough to talk for me, if I couldn't find the words to say.
But, the words came.
I experienced the beautiful result of serving: losing oneself.
There was the shield of service I could hide behind. I was not just Megan, quiet and unsure. I was in comfort outside my comfort zone.
Before long, the shift was over. I took off the apron and was simply someone ready to eat breakfast.
It was good to be back in my comfort zone, but I was glad that zone had grown.
Continuing with gratitude. . .
216. Omelet Brunch
218. New friends
220. Rainy days
221. Blue Skies
222. Fresh fruit
223. Books on CD
224. My journal
225. Popcorn/Smoothie dinners
226. Plane tickets and new suitcases for a upcoming trip. My dad is having to go out of town more often with his job, and we are going to go with him in a few months. It will be Youngest Sister's first time on an airplane, but Middle Sister hasn't flown since she was a baby and I haven't flown since I was five. My dad has been sharing with us some of the rules about what we can and can't pack. For instance, he says we won't be able to bring our regular-sized tooth pastes. I just hope knitting needles are allowed. . .
227. A jog with Middle Sister and my dad
228. The right words
230. Expanded comfort zones
May your week comfortably stretch you~ Megan