Today I am here with quite a sad post, it may not be the most flattering on my part, but I'm just going to be real. This is a story from my little crazy life. And it starts about two weeks after I got home from the land of Honduras. Family camp 2017. I sat down at a long table with my food, tray in hand. I was sitting with my friend and her brother who had a million other friends, so I ended up across from some random dude I had never talked to before. Engrossed in the awesome conversation my friend and her brother were having about Honduras, I didn't really talk to the kid across from me because mostly he was talking to other people. So there we were, talking about fish eyeballs and all the cool stuff that went along with taking a mission trip. An eye-opening, life-changing, amazing, crazy trip.
Of course we were eating camp food while talking about this. So a few people may have been complaining about it, and I for one was wishing for perhaps some better food. But what's sadly ironic is that during the moments we were talking about the dump, and the food they didn't have, we were complaining about our wilted roast beef and the potatoes that didn't have enough salt. I didn't notice though, and kept on eating. I picked up the cookie and took a bite suspiciously, completely forgetting the sights I had seen in Honduras and started to complain. "This tastes like cornbread," I joked as we made fun of all the food on our plates. "Wait haven't you just been on a mission trip? Shouldn't you like not be complaining?" The random kid sitting across the table said just then. Oops. I went quiet. And my heart sank. My conscience was plucked. I was complaining about perfectly fine, good even, bountiful food where I could have as much as I wanted, when only two weeks before I had met people who had to scavenge for their meals in trash or be given a tiny cup of soup. When we ran out, I had felt so bad, and they did not complain one bit. They quietly walked away. Some of them shared their half cup of soup with others. It was a lesson I thought I would never forget. But I had. What I learned that day I was not putting into practice. I was being a bad example to others when I had just been inspired. I am so, so sorry. It's bigger than just complaining about a plate of food. I had been having a bad attitude recently, and it was so wrong I admit. My mission trip to Honduras was so life-changing, and I can't just forget it. To the random kid sitting across from me, thank you for reminding me of a lesson I should have learned before. Thank you for pointing that out. It was a sad day in the life of me, when I complained, and I hope to always be grateful for what I have. Thank you everyone for praying for me, so I could go on my trip. And I promise I will remember the lessons I learned forever. From Honduras, my amazing friends, and the kid sitting across the table. Whoever you are, I thank you. I will never complain about camp food again.
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about the authorAs a 21 year old aspiring teacher, Karissa loves to write, travel, play piano, and read. Many creative things have her heart. archives
November 2021
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