![\"\"](\"https:\/\/fullmeasureofjoy.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/09\/neighborhood.jpg\" "\\"neighborhood\\"")
<\/a>We, as volunteers who were willing to help as needed, were asked to park outside their hard-hit neighborhood and walk to the homes of our friends and family. It was about a mile hike through streets lined with debris. All of these families were dealing with the same conditions. Water had flooded basements, but the upper levels were still intact and untouched.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
And so one thought I had was that everything on the outside of these homes seemed normal. As if nothing had even happened. But once inside, the damage and debris was staggering. How often we live our lives that very way. Allowing others to believe everything is fine, but inside we are hurt, broken and bruised. The saddest part is that we do life alone when we don\u2019t allow others to see what is really happening. We miss out on the love and compassion others will gladly express when we hold it all inside. If this is happening with you now, please open up to someone you can trust. It\u2019s the only way to healing.<\/p>\n
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My friends had damage to their entire basement. Flood waters had entered their home through a broken window and it had tossed the heaviest items around as if they were children\u2019s toys.<\/p>\n
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Throughout the afternoon, this small army carried buckets and tubs filled with mud-covered items. Each load removed a little piece of their lives. Each section uncovered elements that told the stories of who this family was. The business owners. The couple who raised three boys. The woman who enjoyed decorating her home for each holiday. The boys who collected select items. The family who loved being together.<\/p>\n
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<\/a>My work outfit…before<\/p><\/div>\n
When we got to the section where memories were laid open and bare, a little more time was taken between each removed tub. Moments were taken to reflect on some of the items found. His elementary school grade card. Her fifth grade picture with curly hair and glasses. Their oldest son\u2019s first driver\u2019s license. Photographs of family vacations. These were more than memories being tossed out. These small treasures told the story of their lives.<\/p>\n
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I found a small box. A treasure chest. It had a little pad lock on it. There was something inside. It seemed important, so I walked outside with only this small find in hand. When I reached the garage, my friend and her oldest son were standing together. I held out this small treasure chest and her son exclaimed, \u201cThat\u2019s mine!\u201d<\/p>\n
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