Ronald McDonald House

Bleary eyed and short-tempered, our group walked into the Ronald McDonald House not knowing what to expect. Our fingers lingered on the doorhandles, our voices became muted at the thought of a sickly child asleep in his bed, and my vision blurred at the sight of the pictures of residents who had "earned their wings." Although the kitchen was chaotic and tense while we prepared brunch, I felt that, amidst the smell of pancake batter burning and sausage frying, I developed a keen sense of purpose and servant-ship. I hope everyone felt the way I did, but I know it was hard to realize the importance of our visit when everyone was rushing to get brunch on the table.

We tried to cook to the best of our abilities, which ranged from easy-mac experts to well-seasoned grilled cheese makers. Even though the hash browns may have become a tad bit too hashed, and the toast a little too toasted, I truly believe our hearts were in it.

Our donation was but a drop in the well of the charity these families had received, but they all thanked us profusely. One man took me aside to tell me "Yesterday is gone, and today and tomorrow are precious blessings."
We then took a tour of the house, and in the playroom, I compared my hand to a painted hand print on the wall, noting the birth and death date beneath the small, infant palm. I thought of the size those fingers could have been, long and healthy like mine. It really made me process what I had learned from the man. I thouught of the daily struggles of the families, and how they experience constant, nerve-wracking emotional ups and downs.
Even though our time at the Ronald McDonald House couldn't compare to the time the residents spend there, it was a very valuable experience, a life lesson that needed to be learned. I hope we all keep the families at RMDH in our heads and hearts, and inspire those in our communities to show the same compassion to similar organizations.