I’d Better Go Talk to the Shy Kid.
Over the weekend, Shane went on a church retreat. In an idyllic setting with just enough rain to make it cool, and 30 people peacefully exploring nature, he had a wonderful time.
When he came home, Shane answered all of my questions. He told me about the group activities, the Bible verses they discussed, the team trust exercises, sitting on rocks in the water, his fun roommates, the woods in darkness, and s’mores by the campfire.
I absorbed every word. I love listening to Shane.
“It sounds like you made some new friends, too,” I said, referring to his roommates and hoping to encourage more discussion.
“Yeah,” he said. “But mostly I talked to the group leaders. They kept coming over to me like, ‘hey, I’d better go talk to the shy kid.'”
This peaked my interest. I was always the shy kid, so Shane appearing shy intrigued me. I remember feeling completely left out all the time – school, church, Girl Scouts, dance class, team sports – all the time.
I didn’t want Shane to feel that. Listening to him talk, it didn’t seem like he felt left out. He is always quiet, never disruptive, but I haven’t considered him “shy” since the great dollhouse debacle back in ’08.
“Did you tell the group leaders that you just don’t talk much, and you don’t smile much, but that you are usually perfectly content?”
“No, I didn’t mind,” Shane said. “They were cool. I even found out that one of them is ranked higher than me in the ping pong league!”
Ah, a fellow pong player. Maybe he was 20 years old, but at least he plays ping pong.
So Shane made friends, and he became friends with the college-aged group leaders, too. I’d say it was a good weekend.