Leaving New York

 

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses, yearning to breath free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

 

I know that when Emma Lazarus penned these words that are inscribed on the Statue of Liberty, she was probably talking about the waves of immigrants that were coming to America for a chance at a better life.  No offense to the late Ms. Lazarus, but after a week of mission work all over NYC, we were the tired, the poor, and as the picture shows...a huddled mass!  We got all sorts of looks from other travelers making their way through Penn Station.  One guy was REALLY rude...full-on New York/New Jersey accent, "Get a room!"  Jerk.  It's Penn-freaking-Station!!  Are you kidding me?  With all the people that are in and out of that place on a daily basis, I refuse to believe that we were the only group to ever lay temporary claim to a section of floor space while waiting to board!  Jerk. 

 

Tired.  Yep...not only from the week of walking and working, but the majority of the group decided to stay up ALL NIGHT before leaving on Wednesday afternoon.  They didn't get in until 12:30am from their last night of adventure (clothes shopping for the girls, comic book store for the boys) and then had their last team meeting...which didn't conclude until 4:30am!  Given the events of our last day in NYC, the residents of YOHOS just remained at NYSUM and relished being a complete foursome.  Intense emotional exhaustion on top of physical exhaustion is some bad ju-ju. 

 

By 9am, Wednesday morning, many of the kids were dropping like flies.  They crashed on the couches in the lounge.  Fell asleep propped against walls or each other.  The train ride from Queens to Penn Station was about thirty minutes or so...many of them got in serious power naps.  We left NYC being blessed in so many ways, but I think I am safe in saying that our favorite blessings was loading the luggage into one of the NYSUM vans and having the van meet the group at Penn Station.  HOORAY....no dragging of luggage through the subway!  Being that my knee was still so incredibly stiff, I was given the job of riding in the van with Intern Ashley and our bags. 

 

Intern Ashley is a soft spoken, wall flower of a girl from a small town in South Dakota.  She's SO sweet, but not anyone you would look at and think, "Oh, sure...she can drive in NYC!"  Well, let me tell you, she can and she did!!!  I asked her if it was scary and she said that she loved it!  We had the typical NYC traffic adventures.  A minor fender bender in front of us that made us have to dart out between cars to get around the incident.  People honking at us...for NO good reason.  At one point, I couldn't help myself..."HEY!  WE'RE DRIVING, HERE!"  Ashley laughed.  You know how most streets have a lane for turning right?  Well, some drivers in NYC don't think one lane is enough, so they make their own second lane!  We even had someone cut us off in traffic and he got a prompt and feisty horn honk from Sweet Ashley.  And that made us laugh!  Got to see different sights as we drove along.  No famous people....still looking for Sarah Jessica! (She fascinates me...can't explain why.  She does.  Don't judge.)

 

All aboard!  The southbound journey wasn't as full, so we had a little extra room.  Didn't bother me a bit to have the room to stretch out!  Within thirty minutes of departure, fourteen of our group had gone beddie-bye!  Youth Pastor walked the aisle make one last check on his flock and when he sat down, it didn't take long for him and his lovely bride to snuggle up and become numbers "15" and "16!"  It was the same twenty two hours going home and many of our kids slept as much as eighteen of those hours.  Even when they roused around midnight, it didn't take them long to do what they had to do and then go back to sleep.  I know folks who got on at later stations thought they'd have to deal with a wild party of teen agers but were very surprised when they didn't.

 

I was glad when we finally got to Atlanta....not just because it meant that home was only a few hours away...mostly because it meant that one passenger would be getting off....FINALLY!!!!  He got on in New Jersey and proceeded to do business on his cell phone for most of the trip.  No eavesdropping required...he was a tattoo artist.  He'd been hired to do a tattoo party (Who knew?  I know Pampered Chef, 31 and the like...but hadn't heard of tattoo parties!)in Atlanta.  One of two things...either he's really good or the people who hired him have more money than sense.  I think it's the "more money than sense" because as the train chugged along, we ALL found out that the woman who hired him...the party's host...cut a fool at her local WalMart and the police were called.  When the "Po-Po" showed up, they realized that she had an outstanding warrant against her.  Tattoo Artist wasn't sure what he was going to be dealing with when he got to Atlanta...how he was going to get paid and all that.  Life is trippin', yo!  Atlanta was a BEAUTIFUL sight to behold!

 

Ah...home sweet home!  Sweet tea steeping within minutes of hitting the front door.  NASTY laundry washing.  Our own showers and no one got a lecture for taking longer than necessary.  My body still felt like it was on the train.  Mr. Snark drove me to the grossery store.  SO thankful for the store deli and their fried chicken!  Full of chicken and sweet tea, we called it "good night" earlier than we had all week and oh...........................I didn't realize how much I missed my bed!

 

It's hard to put into words everything that this trip meant to me.  I know...HA!  That's rich...this is what, the eighth installment of this story?  But it really is.  I saw SO much!  I heard SO much!  I felt SO much!  And try as I might, my words and abilities to express all that was experienced fall well short of the mark.  Here is what I can say:  my life is blessed.  I've always known that, but this trip made it glaringly and shamefully obvious.  I have troubles but they are really just inconveniences.  These blessings haven't been given to me for counting and displaying and polishing.  No, they've been given to me to share and not just share for the sake of it...because it's the right thing to do.  I breathe because of it's required for life and that's how I'm supposed to share.  It doesn't have to be elaborate or complicated.  It's as simple as five flats of bottled water...or some bags of those flat "icee" pops on a hot day...packs of baby wipes....a bar of soap and a washcloth.  And the people who need these things aren't exclusive to NYC.  They are a twenty minute ride into downtown Bamaham...they are in the trailer park down the road from me...in the dirt road neighborhood across from my church.

 

In closing, I have this final thought:

I WILL see you again, NYC....you've been warned.