It was about a quarter past three as the sun had finally perched its warmth through the smokey winter clouds. As our school bus abruptly stopped in front of the black iron gates, the sign above loudly read “St. Mary’s Food Bank!” While watching the heavy gate rumble backwards, I began to remember my brother saying to me how fun this new experience was going to be. In my opinion, I just thought about the long arduous task that I had to perform; it began to not sound so exciting anymore.

As the entire group marched in, we were simultaneous greeted with a warm “Hello!” by our instructor. He gladly glanced around to see what he was working with and then announced, “The five of you here are going to assemble these boxes. The next group will then place them on the conveyor belt and ship them off through the line. Next, you ten over here will package the food in the right portions and the rest will seal the boxes together for storage.” I departed to my designated post and began my first task.

In the beginning of my two-hour shift, I quickly began to construct the bulky boxes for the fast-paced conveyor belt. Box after box was assembled and rapidly pushed down to the next station. The rolling cylinders underneath the boxes made a smooth “SWISH” sound as the inched their way along the assembly line. As soon as one pile had finally been completed, the instructor hoisted a dozen more piles for us to work with. At first, what seemed a difficult job to keep up actually turned out to be a fun game of cat and mouse.

Afterward, I made my way to the packing unit where I began to pack hundreds of cans, oats, and soups in to the boxes. To my surprise, this was my favorite station to participate in because of how fast I had to rush in order to supply everything to the box. As I looked along the rustling conveyer belt, the boxes jumped and danced on top of the spinning cylinders. At last, the time came to drop everything and clean up our messes. I swept my station spotless, recycled the unwanted cardboard, and threw out the rest of the trash before receiving a much needed break.

I would always remember this helpful experience because of the great feeling I acquired packing food for the poor and needy. Before I walked into the food bank, my only purpose was to my work my desired community service hours for my history class. As I noticed the other volunteers helping out, I felt inspired that ordinary citizens were taking time from their busy schedules to feed the less fortunate. In the process of my duty, I made a bunch of new friends by working in unison with others in the intention of helping others.

All together, my schoolmates and I preformed a beneficial task of feeding the thousands of Arizonian families that were in poverty. One person could really make a big difference in their neighborhood, but a group of volunteers could create an immense difference in their community. Helping an individual with any problem they face is like a missile destined for its target. They both have the same goal to follow a straight course until they succeed with their primary mission. That day, I learned that every minute of voluntary work goes along way in helping the families that are need of help.