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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1218487
About the first time I went on a mission trip.
Asleep in a car
I drive to Kentucky
Ready to help the poor.
We gathered in a school auditorium
While talking about painting homes
I knew there had to be more.

Every morning we woke up early;
Dressing to tackle any obstacle
We went to fix up the slums.
Every evening we talked about faith
And why we were helping those in need.
We sang praises and on a guitar Andy strummed.

Too soon we were sent back home
And we were asked about our week
Replying “We are changed.”
We bragged about the work we did
Despite the fact that is was hard
The truth is it will never be explained

It was impossible to explain what went on there;
How we could never feel the same
And why we were more devout.
Seeing people cry over new paint
Or even a new friend
It the most thankful gesture
Without a doubt.
© Copyright 2007 Lise Chateau (crzy4lance at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1218487-Catholic-Heart