Crafting the heart

Sometimes my students impact me more than I ever could have imagined.

A few weeks ago, the members of my newspaper staff decided they wanted to take part in a service project of some sort during the holiday season and then write an editorial on how it impacted them. The editor-in-chief had the idea of hosting a crafts night at the Ronald McDonald House in Dallas, so I called to set everything up. My students seemed pretty excited, and I was proud of them for taking on this initiative.

Then the typical teenager attitude started to attack.

As the time got closer to the actual day of the event, my students didn't seem like they were putting much planning into the event. I reminded them each class about it, and it almost seemed like complete apathy had sunk in. When I went to tour the Ronald McDonald House a few days before our crafts night, I saw a few of the children who were patients in nearby hospitals. I immediately prayed my students would get more excited about spending time with these precious kids, because I knew how happy it would make the children's hearts.

And I knew how happy it would make my students' hearts.

When the Sunday of the event rolled around, even I have to admit that I wasn't completely thrilled about having to drive all the way out to Dallas that night. But, as soon as I arrived, I forgot all about how tired I was and how much I had to do in the upcoming week for work and life in general. When I walked into the crafting room, I couldn't help but let a huge smile dance across my face.

Because that's what happen when you see hearts in action.

Crafting with smiles

Only four of my students were able to make it, but they were already busy at work setting everything up and making their own crafts to show as examples to the kids. I didn't have to give them any instructions or prompting—they were working on their own, had brought all of their own supplies, and there was already a general glee in the air. They seemed really eager for the fun they were about to have with children who really needed to forget about reality for a little bit and just get to be kids at play.

We had about seven kids total make crafts with us that night, and I was so impressed with the way my girls put their entire hearts into this night. For a couple of hours, they forgot about homework, they forgot about makeup, they forgot about boys, they forgot about gossip, they forgot about Twitter and Facebook and Instagram, they forgot about every single stress they had in life, and they remembered what it was like to be kids again.

They remembered what it was like to love unconditionally.

It didn't matter that some of these children had deformities, handicaps or were facing life-altering illnesses. No one was there to judge, and no one was there to be judged. They were all simply there to make crafts—regardless of whether or not they realized they were also crafting their own hearts at the same time.

The children who made crafts with my students won't wake up and be cancer-free or escape the surgeries they might have to brave soon. But at least they got to forget about all of that for a little span of time on a December night in Dallas.

We are inevitably going to face pain and struggle in life, but love can overcome it all. Reading the reflections my girls wrote about their time at the Ronald McDonald House warmed my heart more than I can describe. They couldn't stop telling their classmates about their experience and all of the kids they were able to spend time with on Sunday, and they had such joy as they showed them some of the pictures they took with their new young friends. It's really refreshing to see light in a world that is full of far too much darkness.

In the midst of whatever storms rain upon us, love will always squeeze its way into our lives—and sometimes change our hearts forever.