Track 15: Disconnected

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"What do you think of my painting?" The seven year old girl named Sydney smiled as she faced me, her eyes full of joy. I walked closer to see her artwork, probably her own version of Vincent Van Gogh's "Starry Starry Night". It wasn't that much, but for a kid at her age, it really is impressing.

"Wow, Syd!" I said with a cheerful tone. "That's an amazing masterpiece! Just don't smudge too much yellow paint on your work, it might mess that up, okay? You're doing a great job! Just call me if you need help, alright? I'll just go ahead and check the others."

"Okay!" Sydney quickly turned her back on me and focused back on her own masterpiece. I guess she's got some talent, or probably a blessing because she could paint something like that on a very young age. I couldn't even draw at the age of nineteen. Well, almost.

I kept my hands inside the pockets of my oversized denim jacket as I roam around the room, checking each and everyone's activity. It's not just about painting and such though it's quite a lot about it. There are some kids who are trying to play instruments too such as the guitar, the piano, and my personal favorite, the ukelele. It's been such a long day but I guess I just couldn't get tired of seeing these kids learn new stuff especially the kind of stuff that are really interesting. I kept a smile plastered on my face, and with each and every kid's look at me, I know they're enjoying their stay at this summer workshop.

And then it hits me again. Well okay, I know I should probably be filling out some college applications and such, but here I am, helping out kids learn how to be a relevant person in the future. I mean, I don't know. I just can't seem to stop it; the feeling or the need to always help people and lead them in the better way. It has become such a passion in me ever since. Maybe because my parents loved helping and reaching out to people too, especially the ones who need help the most. I grew up that way and still being like it. Some people say I don't even know how to have "fun", which I don't quite understand because I always have fun whenever I help out. I enjoy meeting a lot of new people, and it has been such a pleasure to be helping everyone out and serving for them in any kind of way.

I was about to turn my heel and go back to my desk to see if anyone's still interested in joining this workshop I am working for, but I noticed a little boy crying on the side. He looks like he's about the age of four or five, I'm not sure, but I know he's really upset over something. Looking at his face, I quickly walked over to him and sat down in front of him. I immediately chuckled on how he reminded me so much of someone with his pale skin.

"I know I look funny because I can't play." The little boy pouted, and if I don't do anything in a second I'm sure he'll start throwing fits on me.

I can handle this, I'm good with kids.

I looked up to see his name tag that is pinned on the right side of his shirt, showing his name. I smiled.

"Hello, Riley. I'm Joyce." I reached out a hand, hoping that this little kid would take it. "And no, I'm not laughing at you. I'm just smiling because you look adorable. What are you doing?" I asked.

"My hands hurt." He said a little quiet but I managed to hear it. "I wanna play the guitar but it's big and my fingers are small."

I suddenly had a little thought inside my head. I know I can help him, but I'm not pretty sure if it's gonna be the way he wanted it. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with trying.

"Okay, so uhm," I trailed, trying my best to convince Riley. "I'm gonna help you out but it's going to be a little different from the guitar. Well maybe not that different but it's not the same."

He just nodded, waiting for me to keep going.

"I have a ukelele. Do you know what's a ukelele?" I asked, unfortunately he shook his head no. "Uhm, it's smaller than a guitar, like really small. It's uhm— it's really small but I'm sure your little fingers will be able to reach 'em. Are we good?"

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