Farmers Market

Einblick

Farfalline

Bilmek

Lewis & Quark


Sometimes the reason we fear is for our protection- but sometimes seemingly irrational fears can be of help.


Recently, I attended a three-day church camp for Juniors and Seniors, hosted by a local church.

"Guys! We have to play Sardines tonight, it's a tradition!" one of my fellow students exclaimed.

"Alright, let's get started then. Everyone know the rules?" After much nodding and general agreement we started to congregate in the church's small library. My heart began to beat faster, because I knew in just a few minutes the lights would turn off, people would start to leave, and I'd be left to fend for myself in the total darkness of an unfamiliar building. (I know it sounds dramatic now, but try telling that to my scared brain.)

The person set to be found left, and we all started to count down from 100.  We stepped out from the room into the darkness. I tried to make my brain stop worrying, "Where would I hide from this group of kids?" An answer quickly sprang to mind, "The most obvious place, where no one would bother checking." So, I started looking around unprotected corners near the starting point. Within a minute, I saw the face I was looking for.

I stood there quietly, waiting for others to join us. After a few minutes, no one else had joined us, and the other player breathed, "Wait here, I'm going to go check on something." I nodded, and continued to stand there quietly. Five more minutes passed, and the player had not returned, so I ventured out on my own again, determined to find him once more.

Much frustration came of those next few minutes, but I eventually was aided in finding the original hider in the library where we had started.

Despite some confusion, it was acknowledged that I had indeed found the "hider" first, and I was bound to hide next. But before I left to hide, some things had to be set straight.
"Let's go over the rules again just to be sure everyone has it," one of the youth leaders said. "Don't change locations once you hide and don't go into the crawlspace or the boiler room, both of which are in the basement."

"89, 88, 87..." I could hear the group counting in the room behind me. I'd have to hurry if I wanted to find a good spot to hide.

I ran off towards the kitchen, "There might be a cupboard big enough to hide in there..." I quickly arrived and scanned the area for a good hiding spot, but I saw none. It suddenly occurred to much how much time I must have spent in the kitchen and I panicked. I had gotten a general idea of where the basement door was from the discussion that night, but had never had the opportunity to find that cave myself. I knew the basement door was "near the kitchen" so I scrambled for it. Trying to be quiet, I hurried down the stairs and scanned the room. There was no where to hide. It hadn't even occurred to me that the basement would not provide a wealth of hiding spaces. But now my panic reached a climax, I decided to just crouch down next to shelf and hope silence and the dark clothes I was wearing would protect me for a respectable amount of time.

Little did I know that forty minutes later I would still be crouched in that uncomfortable position, still unfound after the seekers had made several trips to the basement. Yet as the players checked the crawlspace nearby with flashlights, some of them accidentally discovered me, and, after twenty more minutes, the rest of the group gave up.

I stepped up the stairs with cramped legs and saw the light switch at the top of the stairs, after over an hour in the basement, I saw in the light that the basement was no cave, but just an ordinary dusty room.
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