The Little Things that Count

Miranda Marean, VE Global Volunteer, January 2015

It’s a common refrain that “it’s the little things in life that count,” but it isn’t often that we see this philosophy in action. Before launching into a full-on explanation about why little things are actually really big things, I’ll tell the story that got me thinking about this concept in the first place:

On a regular school day at the Hogar, one of the tias asked me to take M. (the cutest three-year-old in the world) to the store down the street to buy a “kojak,” or lollipop. At the time, I had no idea that “kojak” meant lollipop and I had no idea where the store was; the tia assured me that M. knew everything necessary. So I left the Hogar, hand in hand with M., and let her lead me her down the street. Under normal circumstances, I would have been terrified to follow a child that young (they aren’t usually directionally gifted). But the store was only a few blocks away, and I trusted that M. knew where this store was. However, this didn’t stop me from asking M. at every street corner if we were almost there.

When we finally arrived at the store, it was M. who spoke to the woman behind the counter and ordered her lollipop. It was M. who gave the woman 10 pesos instead of 100 pesos, which meant that I ended up handing her the correct amount — one of my finest and most useful moments. As we left the store, M. looked up at me and said, “We make a good team, Tía. High five!” So we high-fived and raced each other back so she wouldn’t be late for school.

It may not seem like much, but having M. acknowledge me and tell me I was doing a good job meant the world to me. I have now told this story a million times because it touched me so deeply. It was a little thing, a small journey, that lasted mere minutes. It is also one of my fondest memories thus far in Chile.

Right now, I am halfway through a six month commitment with VE Global working with their partner organization Hogar San Francisco de Regis. Monday through Friday you can find me at San Fran, a residential home for girls at social risk who have been placed there because of difficulties within their families.

Now that school has started up again, my day alternates between picking up the girls from school, helping out with homework, and doing activities (art, theater, sports, games, etc.) whenever possible. With so much going on and most of my time with the girls spent helping with homework, there aren’t always opportunities for grand adventures. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t a myriad of opportunities to share and bond.

Just yesterday, while almost every other girl was working on homework, A. was in the playroom because she had already finished her assignments. She grabbed one of the small toy whiteboards, asked to borrow one of my dry erase markers, and suddenly we were playing teacher. She was the teacher, of course. It was an opportunity for her to take control and lead the activity, and I was glad to let her. A. decided we were having a math class; she explained her activity (which involved adding of some sort) and drew lots of examples of eggs in boxes before asking me to repeat her process. She led me step by step through what she wanted and took her position as teacher very seriously; it was a side of her I hadn’t seen before and it was a really rewarding experience. The whole lesson only lasted 20 minutes before it was snack time, but I think of that lesson as more than just a class on counting eggs in a box.

It’s moments just like those that are what make being here worthwhile. Not only do I get to work with wonderful and inspiring children, I also get to work beside equally amazing volunteers (there are plenty of stories I can tell about the two volunteers, Katie and Marta, I work with at San Fran, but that would be a different post). It’s the people that surround me who are teaching me every day.

One thing I can safely say I’ve learned, though I bet I’ll learn much more before my time is up, is to never take those moments in between the big adventures for granted. It’s those quiet times that may only last for a few minutes that remind us why we are doing what we are doing in the first place.