“I myself am often surprised at life’s little quirks.” - The Princess Bride

I began volunteering for Extreme Community Makeover (ECM) my freshman year of college. The Campus Crusade chapter at my school had a group that went with some frequency, a group that was comprised mostly of upper classmen. At the time it seemed like a golden opportunity, a way to serve in the community and to meet some of those oh-so-terribly-mature-and-cool-people-I-want-to-be-just-like.

On one of my first days with ECM, we were assigned dumpster duty. Our instructions were to go up and down the alleyways and to paint over any graffiti that had been marked on the dumpsters. One of the older Crusade guys immediately had us divide into two groups of four, and then down into pairs in order to maximize our efficiency. I was a little nervous about my partner. Michelle was a pretty blond sophomore. Though I had never really met her, I knew she had a reputation as being both extremely smart and very nice. I suddenly felt insecure – Michelle obviously had plenty of friends. What would she think of a silly little freshman like me? 

Our group of four trekked down to our first alleyway and began to work, moving from one dumpster to another. When the other pair got caught up in talking to one of the local residents, Michelle and I decided to move on to the next dumpster. It was quite a ways down the alley, and soon the sound of the guys talking behind us became remote. We had just about reached the dumpster when we heard a growl. I had just enough time to register a chain link fence before a hundred pound brown blur was hurdling himself straight at us. The fence shook with the weight of his impact and Michelle and I both screamed. We took off running and dodged around the dumpster. Behind us, the dog was still barking for all he was worth, discontentedly pacing behind the fence. Michelle and I looked at each other and began to giggle. Soon we were outright laughing, relief and embarrassment pouring out. 

All of a sudden I had a sobering thought. “Michelle, the boys are going to have to walk right past that dog. Should we warn them?” Again we looked at each other. Warning them would be a kind thing to do. But they were guys; manly-men. They could handle it, couldn’t they? And if we were wrong, and they did end up screaming like little girls and running behind our dumpster, well, then we would all have something to laugh about. Michelle agreed. We would just wait behind the dumpster and see what happened.

It was at that moment that I decided I really liked Michelle. While she looked (and truly really was) sweet and kind, she also had an adventurous, fun side that could pop up in the strangest places. I was to see it again years later when we both studied abroad at the same school. Our friendship was what helped me to handle the inconveniences and quirks of travel with grace. And to think, it all began with a day spent at Extreme Community Makeover dumpster painting.

The guys didn’t scream, by the way. They barely glanced at the dog (who, in my opinion, had gone soft in the minutes we were waiting).

by Amelia N