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I think that at this moment, 4.01pm EST, the Ronald McDonald House of the Bluegrass is just about as socially wired as any college student walking around campus in their sweatpants and oversized UK hoodie [sans coat on this 8 degree day, of course]. I've spent most of the day updating events, posting notes, adding admin, changing info and Twittering. [Is "twittering" in this context an official verb? If not, I'm making it one.] Needless to say, my eyes are complaining and my fingers are ready to touch something other than a keyboard. Don't get me wrong, it's been a great day, just a day of getting settled and finding where everything stands.
Timeout -- just got a story lead in the kitchen. Back in a bit.
Okay, back. It's now 4.40pm and there is a whirlwind in the kitchen! Turns out that the Phi Theta Kappa chapter of Bluegrass Community Technical College is cooking dinner tonight and they are in a cooking frenzy. Just to reinforce proof of their organized chaos, they have a dry erase board set up on one of the counters listing every job that needs to done and at what time they need to be done and who is doing it. [I'm thinking of hiring them to run my life.] For most of them, it's their first service project as a PTK member, so this is all new to them. They are all smiles and all exuberant to be here, each of them with their own story and excited to tell it. I stood and talked with a few of them as they chopped and simmered away, listening to them tell me about themselves and why they're here. Santy told me about her studies as a travel major, to which I responded "There's a TRAVEL major?? I went to the wrong school!!" She laughed at my response and I joined her, hoping she wouldn't notice my inward disappointment. I think my favorite story that I heard was from Kristen, who is 37 and back in school studying programming. [She also has a really awesome tattoo on her arm.] I asked why she was here and her face lit up with a smile. She said that a Ronald McDonald House in Texas had really stepped up for her and her family a few years ago when they experienced a sudden death. She said that the people at RMH had gone especially out of their way to help them as they went through that hard time, and that she greatly appreciated it, even to this day. I must say, that is one thing I've noticed about volunteers here who have had a prior experience with RMH - they are still appreciative and eager to tell you about it years and years later.
Well, that's all from the house today.
-- Sara Jane
Friday, January 16, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Day One :: Phones and Fried Chicken
Wednesday 14 January 2009
It's the first day of my internship at the Ronald McDonald House and I couldn't be more excited. I really mean that, too. I'm not just saying that because my boss and my internship supervisor will be reading this, but because it's true. No, it's not the feeling of nervousness that has taken up temporary residence in my stomach at the moment, but excitement at what is to come. From the first time I met Sarah, my boss at Ronald McDonald House, I knew this internship was going to be the best I could ever hope to find.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. At this point, I'll pause to apologize because I haven't even introduced myself, which is highly rude and also, I must say, highly uncharacteristic of me. (However, getting ahead of myself IS characteristic of me, so please adequately prepare yourself for that now.) My name is Sara Jane Roe and I am originally from Chillicothe, Ohio, which, honestly, probably sounds familiar because you've driven through on Route 23 and smelled the paper mill. Unfortunate, I know, but it really is a lovely little place despite that aforementioned unpleasant aroma on the south side of town. I am a senior at the University of Kentucky and will be graduating in May if all goes according to plan. Don't ask me what I want to do after graduation unless you have time for an afternoon spent at Starbucks. For now, we'll just say I have big dreams. And all that leads me here - the Ronald McDonald House.
So, we're back to my first day. First order of business - organizing my plastic, rolling drawers (that seem to scream "Intern!") which I will wheel out to my desk every day to aide me in my intern conquests. I lovingly fill the drawers with pads of paper covered in plaid, ball point pens, about 528 paperclips and every color of Sharpie permanent markers that the company has ever produced, promising Sarah she can steal them anytime she likes. (I may or may not have a Sharpie fetish.) This day is going off without a hitch so far! Then comes the phone. Sarah is so excited that I will have my own phone to make calls to her with...almost as if my desk isn't just outside her own office door. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I soon find myself also excited about the phone, quickly dismissing all thoughts of simply using two cans and a string instead. We set the phone up, plug it in...and nothing happens. No dial tone, nothing. We search for another phone and get blinking arrows that decide for themselves when they'll blink and when they'll disappear. It refuses to work and we dejectedly decide to eat away our disappointment.
On the way to the kitchen, Sarah informs me that Wednesday is the best day to be around for lunch at the House, due to the fact that Wednesday lunch's cook is Liz, who is famous for her southern cooking. And, boy, is Sarah telling the truth. There's homemade macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, dumplings and gravy, fried cornbread, peas, and cake. Delicious cake. All that, AND we get to eat with the cook, who turns out to be one of the sweetest ladies I have ever met or had cook for me. As we gorge ourselves with her scrumptious food, Liz tells us all kinds of stories about her family, her home and the restaurants she's owned in the past. It's easy to lose yourself in her stories because they're just so interesting. She greets everyone who comes in to eat her food and asks me about myself - where I'm from, what my family is like, if I'm excited to be here. Everything she does is so genuine and caring, you can't help but want to give it right back. She is a gentle spirit in this place, a personification of the House itself - loving, kind, genuine, and personal without being intrusive. She must be a diamond in the rough for the families who stay here, and I, myself, can't wait for next Wednesday's lunch.
We are soon joined by a woman who is in the middle of her volunteer training for the Ronald McDonald Family Room that's opening next week at the UK Hospital. She tells us how the training is going, explaining that it's much more intense than expected, but how it will be totally worth it for her. Listening to her talk about her joyful sacrificing in the name of helping others is humbling. Such a seemingly small thing for her could mean the world to someone who has a loved one in the hospital and encounters her there. Normal people doing small things that make a big difference. This is how the world is changed.
As we get up to leave and make our way out of the kitchen, we run into a new volunteer named Cheryl who will be cooking dinner tonight. We ask her what made her want to volunteer at the house and a big smile covers her face. "My family and I stayed in a Ronald McDonald House in St. Petersburg, Florida a few years ago. They helped us so much there, and now that we live here, I want to be able to give back." She is so ecstatic at being able to cook and tell her story that it's hard to imagine the pain she's been through and the tragedy that brought her here. Her story brings me to tears and I'm amazed at her strength and ability to not just give up. I won't tell the details of her story here, as I haven't yet asked if I can share them. Her story is certainly not mine to freely give. But I certainly hope that I can sometime because stories like that do nothing but breed love and strength. She'll be at the House the same days I will and I'm also looking forward to seeing much more of her.
Walking back to my desk, I can't help but think of all these stories and the hope and love that pour from them - the quiet yet giant love of Liz, the devotion of the volunteer, and the unstoppable journey of love through unimaginable pain told by Cheryl. All these people have somehow found themselves here in this House that looks nothing but normal from the outside, but is nothing short of extraordinary on the inside. Even I can feel it after being here for just a few hours - when you walk through the doors of the Ronald McDonald House, you don't just walk into a place that offers a roof over your head and a hot meal, you enter a safe haven where you discover a family you never knew you had.
I smile as I see the uncooperative phone on my desk and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that, given all I've seen today, my phone problems will all work out in the end...even if it turns out to be two cans connected by string.
Until Friday.
-- Sara Jane
It's the first day of my internship at the Ronald McDonald House and I couldn't be more excited. I really mean that, too. I'm not just saying that because my boss and my internship supervisor will be reading this, but because it's true. No, it's not the feeling of nervousness that has taken up temporary residence in my stomach at the moment, but excitement at what is to come. From the first time I met Sarah, my boss at Ronald McDonald House, I knew this internship was going to be the best I could ever hope to find.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. At this point, I'll pause to apologize because I haven't even introduced myself, which is highly rude and also, I must say, highly uncharacteristic of me. (However, getting ahead of myself IS characteristic of me, so please adequately prepare yourself for that now.) My name is Sara Jane Roe and I am originally from Chillicothe, Ohio, which, honestly, probably sounds familiar because you've driven through on Route 23 and smelled the paper mill. Unfortunate, I know, but it really is a lovely little place despite that aforementioned unpleasant aroma on the south side of town. I am a senior at the University of Kentucky and will be graduating in May if all goes according to plan. Don't ask me what I want to do after graduation unless you have time for an afternoon spent at Starbucks. For now, we'll just say I have big dreams. And all that leads me here - the Ronald McDonald House.
So, we're back to my first day. First order of business - organizing my plastic, rolling drawers (that seem to scream "Intern!") which I will wheel out to my desk every day to aide me in my intern conquests. I lovingly fill the drawers with pads of paper covered in plaid, ball point pens, about 528 paperclips and every color of Sharpie permanent markers that the company has ever produced, promising Sarah she can steal them anytime she likes. (I may or may not have a Sharpie fetish.) This day is going off without a hitch so far! Then comes the phone. Sarah is so excited that I will have my own phone to make calls to her with...almost as if my desk isn't just outside her own office door. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I soon find myself also excited about the phone, quickly dismissing all thoughts of simply using two cans and a string instead. We set the phone up, plug it in...and nothing happens. No dial tone, nothing. We search for another phone and get blinking arrows that decide for themselves when they'll blink and when they'll disappear. It refuses to work and we dejectedly decide to eat away our disappointment.
On the way to the kitchen, Sarah informs me that Wednesday is the best day to be around for lunch at the House, due to the fact that Wednesday lunch's cook is Liz, who is famous for her southern cooking. And, boy, is Sarah telling the truth. There's homemade macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, dumplings and gravy, fried cornbread, peas, and cake. Delicious cake. All that, AND we get to eat with the cook, who turns out to be one of the sweetest ladies I have ever met or had cook for me. As we gorge ourselves with her scrumptious food, Liz tells us all kinds of stories about her family, her home and the restaurants she's owned in the past. It's easy to lose yourself in her stories because they're just so interesting. She greets everyone who comes in to eat her food and asks me about myself - where I'm from, what my family is like, if I'm excited to be here. Everything she does is so genuine and caring, you can't help but want to give it right back. She is a gentle spirit in this place, a personification of the House itself - loving, kind, genuine, and personal without being intrusive. She must be a diamond in the rough for the families who stay here, and I, myself, can't wait for next Wednesday's lunch.
We are soon joined by a woman who is in the middle of her volunteer training for the Ronald McDonald Family Room that's opening next week at the UK Hospital. She tells us how the training is going, explaining that it's much more intense than expected, but how it will be totally worth it for her. Listening to her talk about her joyful sacrificing in the name of helping others is humbling. Such a seemingly small thing for her could mean the world to someone who has a loved one in the hospital and encounters her there. Normal people doing small things that make a big difference. This is how the world is changed.
As we get up to leave and make our way out of the kitchen, we run into a new volunteer named Cheryl who will be cooking dinner tonight. We ask her what made her want to volunteer at the house and a big smile covers her face. "My family and I stayed in a Ronald McDonald House in St. Petersburg, Florida a few years ago. They helped us so much there, and now that we live here, I want to be able to give back." She is so ecstatic at being able to cook and tell her story that it's hard to imagine the pain she's been through and the tragedy that brought her here. Her story brings me to tears and I'm amazed at her strength and ability to not just give up. I won't tell the details of her story here, as I haven't yet asked if I can share them. Her story is certainly not mine to freely give. But I certainly hope that I can sometime because stories like that do nothing but breed love and strength. She'll be at the House the same days I will and I'm also looking forward to seeing much more of her.
Walking back to my desk, I can't help but think of all these stories and the hope and love that pour from them - the quiet yet giant love of Liz, the devotion of the volunteer, and the unstoppable journey of love through unimaginable pain told by Cheryl. All these people have somehow found themselves here in this House that looks nothing but normal from the outside, but is nothing short of extraordinary on the inside. Even I can feel it after being here for just a few hours - when you walk through the doors of the Ronald McDonald House, you don't just walk into a place that offers a roof over your head and a hot meal, you enter a safe haven where you discover a family you never knew you had.
I smile as I see the uncooperative phone on my desk and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that, given all I've seen today, my phone problems will all work out in the end...even if it turns out to be two cans connected by string.
Until Friday.
-- Sara Jane
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