Today, Mommy, Allison, Timmy, and I went to help out at the Harvest Festival at our church. Mommy passed out the tract bags she had made. Allison, Timmy, and I helped out by manning some of the booths. At Allison's booth, kids would fish for ducks swimming (or, rather, floating upside down) in a kiddie pool full of water. Timmy worked beside the shooting range (why they had one at a Harvest festival for five-year-olds alludes me) with hoops and targets. And I did the penny toss, where kids would try to land a penny on a circle target. They would usually miss, unless of course they were really aiming for my shoes, or the lawn behind my booth, or the pavement, or under the chair. If that was the case, everyone had excellent aim, for half the time the pennies landed off the board, and the other half missed the circles.
The festival itself amazed me. Considering the size of Woodland Park Bible Church (super small), I was surprised at the size of the production. There were over a dozen booths, freshly baked cookies and hot dogs, a cake walk (instead of walking on cakes, as it sounds like a "cake walk" is, kids would play musical chairs to win a giant cake), a hay ride, and a costume contest. To put this on, almost the entire church participated by running booths, cooking the food, and making the announcements. Unfortunately, all their efforts were nearly in vain. Instead of the hundred we had supposed, perhaps only twenty to thirty children showed up. Mommy was only able to pass away a small fraction of the tract bags, leaving nearly one hundred unused. There were more booth-workers than people playing at the booths.
You would think that, because so few people came, manning a booth must have been an easy task. Think again. I had much more business than would be expected. Most of the kids returned to my booth three, four, or even five times. And, when I wasn't dealing with the little kids, some bigger "kids" in search of free candy (the teenagers and adults from church) came over for a turn. (Just in case you wondered, the adults didn't have any better aim than the three-year-olds.)
Even more stressful than the work itself were the teenagers who kept bothering me (whether intentionally or not). One of them, named Alfonzo, was especially irritating. For some unknown and bizarre reason, he decided to take it upon himself to make sure everyone visited my booth. And he did so with an unwarranted amount of energy and enthusiasm. He would drag people over, grab a penny from me, hold it up so everyone could see, and loudly announce, "Look! Look! Everyone look! This is a penny! A penny! You eat it! Actually, you throw it here, and get it on a circle. The smaller the circle you hit, the bigger the prize! You aim, and you throw, like this!" He aims, and misses. "Actually, like this!" Again, a miss. He then grabs a handful and throws them down. Pennies scatter everywhere. "Hah! I win a lot of candy! Now you do it!"
At one point, Alfonzo realized that his tactics weren't working and people still weren't flooding to my booth (perhaps because there wasn't that many people to begin with). He then "hired" two girls in pixie outfits to advertise my booth for me. Whatever their purpose was, they didn't do it. Instead of advertising, they seemed to want only to talk about their cellphones and complain about being cold. Really loudly. If anything, they served to drive kids away, not draw them towards me. When the costume contest started, they finally left me in peace and never returned.
Of course, no matter how stressful my job was, it really seemed that I had the easiest time there. Timmy, who was doing the hoop game, was showered by hoops by some people who seemed to think him a better target than the intended ones. To my left, another girl, named Stephanie, ran the milk bottle pyramid game. Perhaps it should have been renamed the "knock-over-Stephanie-and-make-her-suffer" game, or at least, that's how she saw it. After being pelleted by metal bottles and a football, Stephanie had to set the bottles up again quickly for the next player. After being there only half-an-hour, she had already had enough. "I can't do this anymore," she moaned. By the end of the evening, she was totally exhausted.
Despite these rather unpleasant experiences, there were several fun things that happened. I was able to wear a cute cat costume. Seeing all the people from church in funny costumes was really an experience. It was fun seeing people be so delighted whenever they won some candy (even if I fudged the rules a little and gave them a candy "just for trying"). Best of all, I loved meeting so many cute little kids dressed in the most adorable outfits.
The festival itself amazed me. Considering the size of Woodland Park Bible Church (super small), I was surprised at the size of the production. There were over a dozen booths, freshly baked cookies and hot dogs, a cake walk (instead of walking on cakes, as it sounds like a "cake walk" is, kids would play musical chairs to win a giant cake), a hay ride, and a costume contest. To put this on, almost the entire church participated by running booths, cooking the food, and making the announcements. Unfortunately, all their efforts were nearly in vain. Instead of the hundred we had supposed, perhaps only twenty to thirty children showed up. Mommy was only able to pass away a small fraction of the tract bags, leaving nearly one hundred unused. There were more booth-workers than people playing at the booths.
You would think that, because so few people came, manning a booth must have been an easy task. Think again. I had much more business than would be expected. Most of the kids returned to my booth three, four, or even five times. And, when I wasn't dealing with the little kids, some bigger "kids" in search of free candy (the teenagers and adults from church) came over for a turn. (Just in case you wondered, the adults didn't have any better aim than the three-year-olds.)
Even more stressful than the work itself were the teenagers who kept bothering me (whether intentionally or not). One of them, named Alfonzo, was especially irritating. For some unknown and bizarre reason, he decided to take it upon himself to make sure everyone visited my booth. And he did so with an unwarranted amount of energy and enthusiasm. He would drag people over, grab a penny from me, hold it up so everyone could see, and loudly announce, "Look! Look! Everyone look! This is a penny! A penny! You eat it! Actually, you throw it here, and get it on a circle. The smaller the circle you hit, the bigger the prize! You aim, and you throw, like this!" He aims, and misses. "Actually, like this!" Again, a miss. He then grabs a handful and throws them down. Pennies scatter everywhere. "Hah! I win a lot of candy! Now you do it!"
At one point, Alfonzo realized that his tactics weren't working and people still weren't flooding to my booth (perhaps because there wasn't that many people to begin with). He then "hired" two girls in pixie outfits to advertise my booth for me. Whatever their purpose was, they didn't do it. Instead of advertising, they seemed to want only to talk about their cellphones and complain about being cold. Really loudly. If anything, they served to drive kids away, not draw them towards me. When the costume contest started, they finally left me in peace and never returned.
Of course, no matter how stressful my job was, it really seemed that I had the easiest time there. Timmy, who was doing the hoop game, was showered by hoops by some people who seemed to think him a better target than the intended ones. To my left, another girl, named Stephanie, ran the milk bottle pyramid game. Perhaps it should have been renamed the "knock-over-Stephanie-and-make-her-suffer" game, or at least, that's how she saw it. After being pelleted by metal bottles and a football, Stephanie had to set the bottles up again quickly for the next player. After being there only half-an-hour, she had already had enough. "I can't do this anymore," she moaned. By the end of the evening, she was totally exhausted.
Despite these rather unpleasant experiences, there were several fun things that happened. I was able to wear a cute cat costume. Seeing all the people from church in funny costumes was really an experience. It was fun seeing people be so delighted whenever they won some candy (even if I fudged the rules a little and gave them a candy "just for trying"). Best of all, I loved meeting so many cute little kids dressed in the most adorable outfits.
It didn't seem too bad at first...
...but it sure felt like this after two hours (so crazy and confusing).
A look behind the booths (the girl in the tie-dye shirt is Stephanie).
The two "pixies" that annoyed—er, advertised for my booth (or really just blabbed on about cellphones and panda bears and Elmo's World).
