Arielle Black-Foley

Neon: An Experience to Remember


When I think about my time building houses in Kentucky with Hancock Youth Group, I think of a quote by Kahlil Gibran. “Work is love made visible.”  This quote sums up my experience in rural Kentucky. Every nail I pounded would affect someone a great deal. This whole story starts with me, nervously awaiting the 22 hour bus ride to Neon.

My nerves calmed down once I got onto the bold yellow Yankee bus, I couldn’t help but see the irony. Like us, this bus was certainly going to stand out in Kentucky. Not everyone is used to seeing 52 kids and adults from Boston. With this in mind, I took a seat next to my friend Kristen, and my fears were stifled a bit as I glanced about at most of the freshman who looked as scared as I was. I chatted with my friends until night came, like a gag that silenced everything. Everyone moved into their sleep positions; some were uncomfortably vertical in their bus seat, and others, sprawled in the bus’s aisle.

Twenty two hours later, I began to see the hills of rural Kentucky. Looking through the window, I saw that a lot of the stores were boarded up, and small houses that had collapsed or sported cracked windows. It came as a bit of a shock; this wasn’t something I was used to seeing, after living for seven years in a community as affluent as Lexington, Massachusetts.

A few miles from the collapsed houses, was our destination: Homes Inc., an organization that provided homes for those in need. We would be working with Homes Inc. for a week, which included framing, putting up dry wall, or painting. I was on the framing crew, which meant I actually got to build a house. I went to bed excited and nervous for the next morning when I would experience the positive and negative aspects of construction.

At the painfully early hour of six, I joined the others who were also half-asleep, and shuffled downstairs, to equip myself for work. We were separated into vans by work groups and chauffeured to our worksite. My worksite wasn’t too impressive, being that it was a cement base in the ground. We unloaded wood and started hammering it down. I kept hammering crooked nails that left gaping holes in the wood which made my job more difficult. It was frustrating that first day, and my muscles were sore and I grew irritated at my failure at producing a straight nail. Everyone else seemed to be able to hammer, and I regretted being the only one to find this work so challenging.  After a few hours of work, we headed back in the van. My first day of real work had ended.

It felt good to drive back to Homes, to where I could do whatever I wanted until worship at night. Worship was the one time that my goofy youth group ceased the joking and became reflective. Worship services were held on a huge boulder overlooking a playing field. As I sat on this boulder, I looked at the pink-purple sky and the trees and hills. I thought that although Neon, Kentucky wasn’t as financially steady as Lexington is, they had something that could be better, beautiful surroundings to enjoy. Along with their beautiful surroundings, they had people who they loved and who loved them.

At that moment, it was clear to me what Neon Kentuckians were blessed with, a sense of what was really important. They didn’t distract themselves with money and possessions. I didn’t hear anyone complaining that didn’t get a new car. The people I met were happy with life the way it was. Despite their economic hardships, they were thankful for the people they loved and the beautiful vistas that surrounded them.

I walked into The First Church of Neon with my youth group, and we took up almost the whole church, I thought that we were going to be treated just like everyone else in the congregation. I couldn’t have been more wrong. A man from the congregation stood up and said a prayer for us, thanking God for our presence, complimenting us, and wishing us the best.  All this, from a man none of us had ever met before.  The whole experience was powerful. The congregation greeted us with smiles, and asked us how we liked the rolling hills. The pastor invited us to a dinner with the congregation, so they could show us their appreciation of what we were going to do for their community. The hospitality the people of the First Church in Neon showed us was like nothing I have ever experienced before.

To be building a house for the people of Neon, who were so thankful and so positive, was a remarkable feeling. These people, who were so happy in spite of their difficult situations, were finally getting something they deserved, a house. I headed home, knowing what it was to really make a difference and what it was to be completely satisfied.

The hard physical labor and the carefree atmosphere of Neon changed me, as well as changing the other members of my group.  Far away from Lexington, the town that held our secrets, people felt comfortable being a lot more “real.” This incredible bond was formed when we helped each other lift up a wall of the house, or finished off the roof. The feelings of teamwork and satisfaction were being built with the house. We all knew what it was to be exhausted and still keep hammering anyway. These common emotions and experiences brought out feelings in us we hadn’t realized were so extreme. As we gathered in our common room to discuss the end of my minister’s career at Hancock, I found myself crying hard. This was interesting because I didn’t even know him that well. Granted I was sad because he had known my family, but my time in Neon with him was what I was really crying about. One week in Neon is enough to build a meaningful relationship that in other circumstances might take a year to build.

My experiences in Kentucky changed my perceptions of love, friendship, hard work and how to get the most from life. One week there and I had gone through a transformation, one that was shared with the 52 adults and kids of Hancock Church.


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