Tonight was another night of serving at Ryves Hall.  For a little background, Ryves Hall is an after school youth center which provides dinner and a safe place for kids to go after school.  They do much more than that, but our small group started volunteering there about 8 years ago hanging out with the kids after school to play games and do crafts.  It’s been amazing to see some of the kids grow in the past years.

Bingo was on the agenda tonight, and I was counting on the numbers of kids being low since it’s warm outside and the attendance is down in the summer.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  There must have been hundreds of them, thousands maybe.  That’s what it felt like.  If they had stopped screaming and running around, I may have counted about 25 kids.  They were jumping on chairs, yelling over the bingo caller, spreading the bingo balls around the room, whining about prizes, stealing prizes.  Did I mention the yelling?  I did spend time helping a couple of sweet boys named Jared (age 6) and Alex (age 8), and they were a delight.

After the kids were shooed out of the room and we were looking shell-shocked, the directors Jim and Beth came out to talk to us.  They thanked us for coming and putting up with the kids (after telling us they had extra sugar at supper).  They explained some of the work they’ve been doing lately with families.  One family of 5 children has been removed from their home because both parents are addicts, and they are working at reunification while they live with an aunt, and one of the daughters is in juvenile detention.  Another couple of boys are dealing with having been adopted by a loving family after neglect and abandonment, only to face their biological siblings and mother at the center on a regular basis.  One of the boys is so angry and can’t find a place to put that anger.  Those are just 2 of the family situations.  And Beth thanked us for coming, reminding us that the kids love having someone to give them attention and play a game with them.  Geez.  Talk about flipping my perspective on its head.

I don’t like being humbled, but at the same time I am glad to be humbled.  To be in the quiet place of understanding where there aren’t any words to express thanks for my own circumstance, as well as the chance to breathe hope and love into impressionable and broken lives.