http://thestatsdesonia.blogspot.com/
http://katishal.blogspot.com/
http://jackijohnson.blogspot.com/

these are the blogs I commented on.

:)

I Believe In The Power Of A Good Ole' Fashioned Rain Dance

     I, like many of my classmates, am having a hard time thinking of something to write for my first assignment, or in general. So, as a child of Generation Me, I decided to write about what I believe. In this crazy world we call ours, the only things that we truly possess are those things that aren't material at all. Your memories, your beliefs, your values, your morals, your truth, your integrity, when all else fails, these are the the things we own and the things that matter. 

     I believe in the power of a good ole' fashioned rain dance because of a woman named Anzie, a man named Tex and a place called Appalachia. In central Appalachia, nearly half of the families have annual household incomes below $20,000. Rev. Glenn "Tex" Evans saw this and the growing need for help in central Appalachia and decided to start Appalachia Service Project. The summers after my sophomore, junior, and senior years of high school I went on Appalachian Service Project, or ASP. On ASP we are split into groups of 5 teens and 2 adults and then each group is assigned to work to repair the home of a low-income family for a week. 

     One summer the family my group went to work with was a little different. There were no parents in the home just Anzie. Anzie was the grandmother, aunt, great aunt, friend, or cousin of the 5 children living in the house. While we all thought she was an amazing woman, we felt as though we couldn’t really break into her, the ASP staff had warned us of her hard shell saying she doesn’t let people in because they “never stick round”

     But my group was determined to chisel her out of that shell. On out last day, we had a few hours before we had to leave, and Charles, Anzie’s 7-year old grandson wanted to go for a “walk” in their “backyard” which turned into a hike straight up the side of the mountain before we made our way to a clearing. We stopped and just looked around, for a bunch of kids from the suburbs of Chicago, the mountain view was breathtaking. 

     It started drizzling, Anzie looked at her 5 “children” and said, “it’s time” the 7 of us thought she meant to go back down but all of the sudden the started she started running in a circle hands flapping saying “raiiiinnnn raiiiiinnnn” we all looked to Anzie who replied to the unasked question with “what y’all actin’ likes you done never seen a rain dance” we all started cracking up and dancing around like fools screaming at the top of our lungs for rain. I couldn't remember that last time I had felt that free, happy, or just flat out blissful.

     Eventually we made our way back down, after a 30 minute downpour. On our walk back down, I turned to Anzie and asked why she was asking for and celebrating the rain she was complaining about the days prior she looked at us and said “ya never know what’s gunna happen and ya never know what your gunna get but, even if ya done hate whatcha got dealt if you just pretend like it’s the dog gone greatest thing in the world some of that pretendin’ just might turn real”

I was a slap-in-the-face line out of a movie kind of moment. Sometimes, when it's raining, I'll catch myself feeling sorry for little ole me before I catch myself and remember to take Anzie's advice. 

I believe in the power of rain dances because of the lessons Anzie taught me that day and because even when that fails, sometimes it's just freaking fun to laugh, sing, and dance in the rain without a care in the world.