It's My Life - Melody Carlson [33]
Since there seemed to be little else to say, I pulled out my diary and turned toward the window and started writing. Then Josh started talking to Zach, asking about whether he was all ready to head off for college or not. And then it hits me–these guys are moving on–next week even! We won't be seeing them around anymore. And, despite all that's gone on (all the hurts and heartaches), that still makes me pretty sad. To tell the truth, I really do like Josh and Zach a lot. And I'll miss them too.
I wonder if Beanie has considered this. She's sleeping right now. I'm so glad she got to come to Mexico. (And I don't have a single regret for spending a good part of my summer earnings on it.) Having her along reminded me of a side of her that I'd almost forgotten during the last several months–that deep kind of caring compassion that she's always had for people, the way she reaches out to the underdog no matter who they are. And I'd like to think I'm becoming more like that too. If I am, it's only because of God. And for that I say: THANKS, GOD!
ELEVEN
Friday, August 31 (back into the swing of things)
I think I slept for two whole days after we got back from Mexico late Monday night. Mom mercifully unpacked my bags for me and did all my laundry (something she hasn't done in years), but I think she was worried I'd brought home cooties or lice or something infectious (which I suppose is entirely possible). Then on Thursday, I went back to work. (Rita had asked before my Mexico trip if I could cover for her on Thursday and Friday before Labor Day.) But let me tell you, I'm totally beat tonight and really looking forward to three days of doing pretty much nothing (well, maybe a little last minute back-to-school shopping).
On Wednesday night, our church had a potluck dinner for the Mexico missions group. Dad had taken my film in to be developed, and I'd quickly mounted the photos on several pieces of colorful poster board with captions describing what was going on. The potluck was fun, and all the kids shared personal stories about what they'd done at the mission and how it had impacted their lives. And when my turn came I, naturally, told everyone about the garbage dump kids and all their suffering (probably a little too graphically, but we'd already eaten), and then I shared about my plan to help gather money to send to the mission specifically for those kids. Well, afterwards, it seemed like half the congregation or more came up to me with money in hand, and finally Stephie went and got a coffee can for everyone to put their donations in. Even Josh had managed to get his parents to write a check for $100 and promised to do more later.
Josh and I talked for a few minutes just as the evening was drawing to an end, and he told me about how he'd taken time to call and apologize to Andrea. A relief to me, since I'd already assured her that Josh and I were nothing more than friends and that when she'd seen me with him on the bus, we'd actually been talking about the pitfalls of dating and people getting hurt. At the time, I wasn't too sure she believed me, but maybe now she will.
Then Josh told me he was leaving for college the following day, and he slipped a little handwritten card into my hand with his college address on it. “Do you think you could write to me, Catie?” he asked in a shy sort of way, quickly adding, “Just as friends, of course. I know how you like to write and everything, and I think it'd be fun to hear how you're doing, and what the youth group's up to and all that good hometown stuff.”
I assured him, I'd love to correspond. “Just don't get the wrong message if I write some really long letters. I do tend to get carried away with writing sometimes.”
“That'd be great.