Our last task before dinner was to put together a skit for the big-group celebration that night, a skit that would encompass our experiences of the week. Our skit was a group of snapshots of highlights of the week: Glove Love and The Bush getting soaked our first night on the trail, Enrique crying on his birthday, the "all will be destroyed haiku," the triumph of the hiker who had the most trouble hiking (namely me) reaching the top of the mountain, Skyscraper's and Samwise's "Jump on it" dance and our group countoff.
There's a bit of a story to that last one. When making sure everyone was there on the bus and all that, each team had counted off, starting with the leader. Each one of us had a number. My team, the Green Machine, had proven itself to be the worst at counting off because at any given moment someone would always not be paying attention, or would think they were the wrong number, or something. So we determined to practice and show off at the celebration. When we did our skit, we went up and down instead of just up. Pathetic that we had to practice that, but hey, we were stubborn.
Then it was time for dinner, and after concrete-like oatmeal, freako butter and nutella for the time on the trail, we were thrilled to have burgers, hot dogs, salad, chips, lemonade, and - joy of joys! - ice cream! We talked with the other Compass groups, as every group had returned that day, and enjoyed ourselves.
Finally it was time for the big-group celebration, and the Green Machine went first. The whole La Vida group consisted of we three Compass groups, a group of younger kids, and a few adult groups. Altogether we were maybe a hundred people. The whole audience sang happy birthday to Enrique with us in that part of the skit, laughed at the haiku, and cheered at the part about reaching the summit. Then we relaxed and watched the rest of the groups do their skits about their La Vida experiences, including the younger kids describing how obnoxious they were to their sherpa at the beginning of the trip and hearing an adult group sing, "On the first day of La Vida, our sherpas gave to us..." to the tune of "On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me."
Then we sang a few songs, like "Over the Mountains and the Sea" and "Open the Eyes of My Heart" and went into the reflective part of the celebration. Anyone who wanted could get up and share about a powerful part of their trip. And after a few people went, The Joker got up and shared about his solo. Suffice it to say, it had been more than incredible in ways none of us could have imagined, listening to God speaking to him. He started crying near the end of talking about it, and so did I, watching and listening.
More than half of La Vida shared their trip stories that night, or so it felt like. It went on for a long time, and it was amazing hearing these truly incredible stories (most of which were about solo, incidentally). Then the meeting ended after a few more songs, and I saw something else amazing. A young woman from another group went up to The Joker and said, "I know you don't know me, but could I pray for you?" They learned each others' names, prayed together, and after a big hug went their separate ways.
That night we were set up under the stars, and I chatted with Glove Love before going to sleep about the ukulele, but also about our faith and really profound stuff. And I could see the stars. (Again, I'm an inner-city kid, so that was a big deal.) It was a powerful night, and I felt so blessed, so at home, so loving and loved, so at peace that night, under the stars in the mountains.
There's a bit of a story to that last one. When making sure everyone was there on the bus and all that, each team had counted off, starting with the leader. Each one of us had a number. My team, the Green Machine, had proven itself to be the worst at counting off because at any given moment someone would always not be paying attention, or would think they were the wrong number, or something. So we determined to practice and show off at the celebration. When we did our skit, we went up and down instead of just up. Pathetic that we had to practice that, but hey, we were stubborn.
Then it was time for dinner, and after concrete-like oatmeal, freako butter and nutella for the time on the trail, we were thrilled to have burgers, hot dogs, salad, chips, lemonade, and - joy of joys! - ice cream! We talked with the other Compass groups, as every group had returned that day, and enjoyed ourselves.
Finally it was time for the big-group celebration, and the Green Machine went first. The whole La Vida group consisted of we three Compass groups, a group of younger kids, and a few adult groups. Altogether we were maybe a hundred people. The whole audience sang happy birthday to Enrique with us in that part of the skit, laughed at the haiku, and cheered at the part about reaching the summit. Then we relaxed and watched the rest of the groups do their skits about their La Vida experiences, including the younger kids describing how obnoxious they were to their sherpa at the beginning of the trip and hearing an adult group sing, "On the first day of La Vida, our sherpas gave to us..." to the tune of "On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me."
Then we sang a few songs, like "Over the Mountains and the Sea" and "Open the Eyes of My Heart" and went into the reflective part of the celebration. Anyone who wanted could get up and share about a powerful part of their trip. And after a few people went, The Joker got up and shared about his solo. Suffice it to say, it had been more than incredible in ways none of us could have imagined, listening to God speaking to him. He started crying near the end of talking about it, and so did I, watching and listening.
More than half of La Vida shared their trip stories that night, or so it felt like. It went on for a long time, and it was amazing hearing these truly incredible stories (most of which were about solo, incidentally). Then the meeting ended after a few more songs, and I saw something else amazing. A young woman from another group went up to The Joker and said, "I know you don't know me, but could I pray for you?" They learned each others' names, prayed together, and after a big hug went their separate ways.
That night we were set up under the stars, and I chatted with Glove Love before going to sleep about the ukulele, but also about our faith and really profound stuff. And I could see the stars. (Again, I'm an inner-city kid, so that was a big deal.) It was a powerful night, and I felt so blessed, so at home, so loving and loved, so at peace that night, under the stars in the mountains.
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