"I Wrote it in Greek for You"
It has been many months since I added to the blog. It’s not
because I have nothing to say; it’s just a matter of discipline. But, this
morning I received a reflection from one of our 2013 interns, Chloé Benner from
Virginia Tech, that so clearly captures the mission of the Good Neighbors
program that it has to be shared. Her reflection helps me understand why I have
such passion for this work. I hope all who read this catch the passion!
Chloé’s reflection—
Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether
something you did had a positive impact on a child. All of the interns spent
the summer brainstorming, prepping, and presenting activities that we hoped
would be of benefit to the large numbers of children entrusted to us through Good
Neighbors. Sometimes the feedback from the kids isn’t immediate or obvious, but
if you watch for the subtle signs that something caught their attention, you
pick up on things that might have made a difference in a child’s life.
One day for art we were outside
using chalk on the blacktop. As a Classics major who loves all things Greek and
Roman, I decided to make the activity educational in relation to my own field –
so I offered to write the name of any student who was interested in ancient
Greek letters. One boy named Buddy joined the line, glanced at his name in an
ancient script scrawled across our modern asphalt, then promptly left and moved
on to other things.
Buddy had been having some trouble
in school, with his peers and with his teachers, due to his recently diagnosed
autism. At camp, though, he was learning to relate to those around him
beautifully. Evidence of this came during morning games one day. Buddy loved to
draw cars and trucks, and one morning he presented me with a picture of an ambulance.
I told him that I loved his art and would always hold onto it, but I requested
that he write his name on it so that I would always remember the friend who
gave it to me. He picked up a pencil, wrote his name, then handed it back to
me. But there was something unusual about it. The first letter of his name had
an extra tail, and his d’s had more curves than they would with typical
handwriting. “I wrote it in Greek for you,” he said.
I was speechlessly grateful. Now all
of the children and interns have scattered back to their homes, but I keep that
ambulance drawing by me as a reminder of why this summer was so meaningful. In
that one simple gesture, Buddy showed me that the students I worked with might
have absorbed more than I knew. What looked like a quick glance at his name on
the blacktop took enough time for him to memorize what I was sharing. One small
moment, that I thought went nearly unnoticed, ended up staying in his memory.
And beyond that, this child who had been having trouble connecting with the
emotions of others did something that turned into the most thoughtful gift I
have ever received. He respected my love for a subject, though it probably had
not been of prior interest to him, and he made me realize that the subjects I
study and the jobs I take with elementary school children give my life meaning.
From that point on, whenever Buddy
was writing or drawing anything for me, he instinctively wrote his name in
Greek. I held on to each one of those pieces to help me remember that my time,
and the time that the other interns spent at Good Neighbors, left a mark for
the better on these children, and as a reminder that these wonderful,
thoughtful children turned this summer into the best I’ve ever had through
unassuming acts of kindness, just like Buddy’s.
