Stars

“The sky was clear - remarkably clear - and the twinkling of all the stars seemed to be but throbs of one body, timed by a common pulse.”
- Thomas Hardy, Far From the Madding Crowd

This past week, I had the pleasure of working with nursing students from the University of Scranton. They stayed up at Camp AJ with the WorkFest crews, and my fellow Elderly Services volunteers and I took them to a different county under our jurisdiction each day. The students visited our participants in the context of health fairs in each county before coming with us for home visits, during which they checked blood pressures, heart rates, and medications. Their gentleness and passion for their work is absolutely inspiring, and they brightened the days of every person they met this week (mine included!).

This past Thursday, I’d mentioned to a few of the students that, if they wanted, I could take them up on a hike that evening to the rock above camp. We’d finally had a beautifully clear day after a week of cloudy skies, and I wanted them to see the stars. Almost all of them decided to come, so my housemate Lucas and I set out with lanterns and flashlights up the hill. The students were good sports; they kept us laughing the entire way with repeated outbursts of “BRIDGET, WHERE ARE YOU TAKING US?!” We promised them it would be worth the minor struggle.

It was.

We got to the flat top of the rock and picked our spots. We hadn’t been there long when one of the WorkFest groups came up and joined us. It was crowded, but there was enough sky for everyone. The heavens were heavy with brilliant stars, and the inky black branches surrounding us twisted their way toward them achingly. It looked as if they’d pierced the suede canopy of deepest blue above, leaving pinholes that let the universe shine down on us with the glorious exuberance that has inspired stargazers since human beings first thought to look up.

“Isn’t it crazy to think about how long that light has been traveling from those stars to us?” I mused. “For all we know, some of these stars are probably...”

“…dead,” Lucas finished.

After a few minutes of silence amid the chatter of the students, Lucas turned to me and said, “Do you think we could be like stars? You know, having the impact of our actions last after we’re gone?”

I can say this to every person who has come to work with CAP through WorkFest or the University of Scranton these past few weeks: you are stars. Your enthusiasm, energy, and willingness to go the extra mile have not gone unnoticed and they will never be forgotten, neither by the participants you helped nor by the volunteers with whom you worked. The time you spent here may have been short but, I promise you, the effect of your presence in eastern Kentucky is a priceless blessing that won’t go away. So, thank you for shining your light so radiantly.

A quick shout-out is in order. Erin, Terry, Regina, Christy, Kirstin, Tricia, Lindsay, Caitlin, Megan, Emily, Johnson, Nicole, Barb, and Marilyn. It was such an honor to get to know you and to work with you. You’re all amazingly talented, passionate individuals, and you kept me laughing (and snorting) all week. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Come back any time. Sooner rather than later.