18 school lunches to go. That’s a total of six school days left to this school year for my kids. Do I hear an amen? 

It has been a great first year at our new school, in our new neck of the woods. I feel like we’re settling in, and putting down good, solid, strong roots. Roots that are comforting, healing and reviving. 

Our school community is full of amazing people.  People who dedicate masses of time, love and resources for ‘the greater good’. People who are self-less and shy away from any kind of spotlight, but they just get on with ‘doing the stuff’. 

We have several Mums in our school community at the moment who are dealing with cancer diagnoses, surgery, treatment and all that entails. One of the Mums doesn’t have any extended family here in NZ, so our community has rallied together and come up with just under $2K for this family. Now we are fortunate to have a public healthcare system, so that side of things is covered, but this money is to go towards things to practically help out the family in this tricky time; extra groceries, a cleaner, petrol money etc. 

I’m someone who has seen and been in ‘community’ before, and I’ve also been on the outside of ‘community’ looking in, and I know which side of the fence I prefer. So this whole wonderful side of life rallying together to help build up life, is really the awesome sauce. 

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Sometimes people get a little ticked off with me when I don’t say much.   I’m pretty sure I have less words to say than the average chick. But maybe writing makes up for that. 

But when I don’t say much, I’m usually thinking a lot. And observing a lot. And taking in a lot. So that when I do open my mouth to speak, if I don’t manage to put my foot in my mouth, then what I have to say is quite intentional.  Sometimes. Usually. Whatever. 

So, anyway. 

This evening my family and I were at a community event. I was fortunate enough to know a few people there so I sat with them. But as I sat at this event and when I wasn’t talking, but merely observing, I noticed some families on the fringes.

On the other side of the fence. On the other side of community.

Not many.

But some.

And ever since I came home I’ve been kicking myself for not reaching out to those families. For not including them. For not making space for them. 

You see community can be beautiful and warm, and embracing and kind, but it can also be selective and harsh, and unwelcoming to some all at the same time. 

It’s the weirdest thing.

Now before you fill the comments area in this post, or in the facebook share which I may or any not do, with kind and thoughtful words to make me feel better. Please don’t. I’m not writing this to share my faults, to gain sympathy. No. This is something I know I can ALWAYS be working on. As long as I have breath in me, I’d like to be reaching out to others and never settle for the status quo. 

And maybe you need to increase your awareness of others around you too. 

We are wired for connections. Always. In any situation. 

Let’s be people living ‘in community’ that is ever increasing, and ever making people feel valued and appreciated, whether you’re in the final countdown to the end of the school year or you have many school lunches still to pack…..people matter.   Fringe living is no fun. Living behind the fences is no fun.