Hurricane Katrina by Melanie Schimpf Print
Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast on August 29, 2005, and left chaos and ruin in its wake. Winds with speeds up to 175 mph destroyed everything in sight, including the levees   that protected the city of New Orleans. Water came rushing down the streets and people lost everything they had and were left with nowhere to go. The United States of America was not  prepared to deal with such a catastrophe and it has been the help of individuals that have helped the people who were affected get back on their feet. Since the hurricane hit,volunteers from all over the country have been going into the area and helping in whatever way possible.
 
Mother Teresa said we can do no great things, only small things with great love, and that's exactly what Sligo Youth did during a week in July of 2006: small things in New Orleans with a great amount of love. The group of 54 people from Sligo Seventh-day Adventist Church left Union Station near noon on a summer day to arrive about 30 hours later at Camp Coastal, a work camp in Waveland, Mississippi.

Even after a train ride long enough to watch the sun set twice, a two hour drive to Waveland and sleep that lasted no more than five hours, our group was ready to work early in the morning. The whole day was spent at the campsite doing things that had to be done in order for everything to run smoothly. The next day our group was split in half and we headed to two different houses. When I arrived at the house where my group would be working, I knew right away that we were not only there cleaning up and getting rid of material things—we were also getting rid of the last bit of life before the disaster, of everything the flood had forgotten to take. We were throwing memories out of someone's home. Maybe someone whose childhood memory will always bring them back to this place that they won't recognize; someone who could do nothing to stop the flood waters from coming in and destroying the life he or she had built.

While in the house I found a picture that is right now pinned on my bulletin board. In the picture there are two women smiling for the camera. It's not one of those fake smiles, but it's the real thing. I don't know their stories, the relation they had to the house we worked on, where they are today, but I know that every time my eyes fall on the picture, I say a prayer for them. Even though they might have lost it all, I pray they have not lost their hope or their peace, and that every day they find a reason to smile the way they are smiling in the picture.

The house was emptied completely and then gutted. At the end of the day there was nothing left but frames. The beautiful thing about frames is that it is a skeleton of something bigger. Frames give support to a house. When we gutted that house and left only the frames, we left the support that the family needed to begin rebuilding their lives, starting with their home.

The Friday we spent there was "Random Act of Kindness Day" for all those that were staying at Camp Coastal. Our group decided to visit several neighborhoods and talk to the people who were trying to rebuild their lives. More than two years later, I've come to understand the meaning of what we might have done that day. I always worry that when I go on a mission trip, I won't be able to do enough and to make a noticeable difference, but I've learned that the little things always do matter. Recently I was driving down New Hampshire Avenue and had to stop at a light. There was a man there asking for money and I always hate it when people approach my window because most times I don't have anything to give and I just end up feeling bad. But on this day I rolled down the window and greeted him, telling him I had nothing to give. What he told me that day has always stayed with me, reminding me how much the little things mean.  Rob said, "You know what? Somebody just rolling down the window and saying hello is better than a buck any day." I guess that's what we did for the people in New Orleans that Friday. We offered them something money could never buy. Though they needed many things, mostly material, we offered to listen to their stories and to lift up our voice to the God who gives and takes away. And sometimes, that's all people really need.