Students sometimes wonder if they’re ready for college. If this is on the mind of your students, share this with them.
Sara came home from a softball game and was surprised to see her father’s car in the driveway. It was May, and that’s a busy time where he works, so he usually went back to the office after he watched her pitch, finished a little paperwork, and then headed home for dinner.
That day, he greeted his daughter in the kitchen. “Nice game, Ace!”
“Thanks, Daddy. Why are you home?”
He beamed at his eleventh-grade daughter and said, “I have a surprise. There’s an overseas community service project heading to a village in Haiti. They’ve opened a large orphanage in a remote area, and they need volunteers to watch the babies while the residents rebuild their homes.”
Sara peeled an orange while her father continued.
“You’d be there four days, but you’d only be working two. You’d have two more days to sightsee. Your grades are strong and your pitching is great, but I think something like this could put you over the top at the colleges we’re applying to. The website for the project is up on your computer. What do you say?”
Sara continued to peel the orange. “Can we talk about it at dinner?”
Her father was a little deflated, but he smiled back. “Sure, honey. I’m going to run back to the office for a little bit, but I’ll see you at seven.”
Dad came through the kitchen door at 7:15 p.m. and quickly took his place at the table with the rest of the family. After more congratulations for Sara’s great game and a little razzing from younger brother John about Sara’s hair, her dad said, “So, how about Haiti?”
Sara put her fork down slowly and looked up. “It’s a great idea, Dad, but I looked on the website. Does this trip really cost six thousand dollars?”
Her father choked on his ice water while her mother gave him a long, cold stare.
“We can afford this, Sara,” he said, smiling faintly. “It’s about your future.”
Sara looked down at her placemat again and swallowed hard. “Well, I looked up the name of the town we’d be going to. It turns out Habitat for Humanity is working there, too. They need three thousand dollars for a new pump so the town can have fresh water again. I also called the Boys Club down on Wilson Street, and they said they could really use some help this summer.
“I sure appreciate the offer, Daddy, but don’t you think it would be better if I stayed here, and we sent three thousand dollars to Habitat for Humanity? That way, the town would have fresh water forever, John could get that new computer he needs, we’d have a little money left over for college, and I would still be making a difference in the world. It would just be a difference in my own neighborhood.”
Sara’s mother did a very bad job of chewing nonchalantly, and John tried to wipe tears out of his eyes in a fourteen-year-old macho fashion. Her father’s shoulders relaxed, and he smiled almost to himself.
“Yeah, honey,” he said. “That’s a great idea.”
Sara is now a senior, waiting to hear from her colleges. But the question you should be asking isn’t, “Where will she get in?”
The question to consider is does it really matter?




