It was already March but for 2010, Florida’s weather seemed to resist its usual, warm pattern; the air was chilly and breezy this particular morning.  Despite the clear sky and beaming sun, many of us snuggled up in several layers of clothing as we headed towards our Saturday volunteer: gleaning.  After weeks of planning and discussions for today’s event, the actual task was still much of a mystery.  Our eyes strained to catch sight of possible cornfields or fruit trees as the car arrived at Mecca Farms.  Instead, we spotted large fields of what looked like dying vegetation—this scene produced more questions than it did answers. 

Each year, Palm Beach Garden High School’s Science National Honor Society (SNHS) participates in a group community service.  There are no limits.  The only requirement states that every member must be involved.  As president of the club, I hoped to fulfill the condition and establish a “cool” activity that could eventually become tradition after I graduate.  Days of searching on Google brought me to an organization called Christians Reaching Out to Society (C.R.O.S.), Inc.  I was immediately attracted to their gleaning project because of its novelty to me.  Most of the students had been born and raised in areas where the term ‘farm’ was known but rarely seen outside.  To separate ourselves from societal norms and spend the day picking food products for the needy in our community sounded like a rewarding experience.  Fortunately, the idea became a reality after a unanimous agreement.

‘Gleaning day’ as we fondly dubbed it, soon appeared.  All the volunteers huddled together with gardening gloves at hand; we were listening to our gleaning coordinator for further instructions.  As soon as the phrase “picking tomatoes” rolled off her tongue, I noticed the crowd slyly divert their attention towards the fields, straining once again, to catch any glimpse of red fruit that would make her words believable.  Their actions however, were unsuccessful. 

Finally, the work began.  Our group thought it would be best to partner up and stay together in the same vicinity.  Taking boxes from the truck, we then walked towards the field.  Our eyes were semi-correct to label the vegetation as dying because the stakes supporting the plants were removed, leaving them sprawling lifeless across the ground.  Nonetheless, the tomatoes were plentiful and far from dead.  I was quite surprise to discover that they were deemed “leftovers” as commercial machines had already finished harvesting.  For the first time, I mulled over a fact that people sometimes toss around: there is enough food wasted that can feed the world.  It was upsetting to realize that we had more food than labor, more tomatoes than helpers. I felt guilty for being blissfully ignorant.  The analogy of being ‘trapped in a bubble’ came to mind. 

Only by volunteering did I see the waste.  In a couple of days, the tomatoes would merely be lying in the dirt to rot.  And in a couple of days, farms across the country would be throwing out food that is desperately wanted.  While I understood that our Saturday gleaning will not prevent world hunger, it is a start in the right direction.  I am happy to have initiated this idea for future students entering into our school’s SNHS.  It would be a success if just one student each year could experience that bubble-popping event.  Like the words of Dr. Seuss, “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  It’s not.” 

For the time being however, I was content to just glean: “KEVIN!”  I shouted.  My friend turned his body towards me, prepared to catch yet another tomato.  After more than an hour, our group had adjusted to the routine.  Some sat and plucked them off the vines while others were responsible for placing them in the boxes.  A few of us were later driven to a field farther out that was still relatively untouched.  Sweaters were tossed aside as we automatically sped up our pace, trying to load more boxes before the allotted time; I imagine it’s similar to a boring computer game with the pounds of tomatoes as our score.   Yet, it was anything but that.  Everyone was enjoying the task and from afar, one would believe that we had all been friends for years. 

Gleaning more than helped those in poverty; it eliminated the awkwardness apparent in our group.  The assignment did not feel like work.  Rather, this mandatory community service project was an amusing experience.  From our mini tomato battles to the afterhours cool down, an invisible bond formed.   It paved a way for new friendships, a lot of laughs, and an eyebrow-raising ‘picnic’ in the parking lot.  The occasion reminded me that we don’t always need to watch a movie, walk around the mall, or go to a pool party in order to have a good time with friends.  It is a matter of expanding my horizon and peering out beyond the bubble.

Exploring such limits has therefore raised my own awareness to the famine and poverty I had been uninformed about.  In the next few days, I started researching other volunteer opportunities and made a goal to set aside some hours for community service this summer.  C.R.O.S. Ministries provided additional options such as serving at soup kitchens or packing for food pantries across Palm Beach County.  And with college this fall, the choices are infinite.  Gleaning, of course, continues to be my personal favorite. 

The memories I carry from my entire gleaning experience shapes who I am today.  I have learned to be more observant of others and of the community around me.  It gives me more faith to trust that one person can make a difference.  Yet, teamwork makes this optimism realistic.  These traits will continue with me in college as I strive to reach not only my goals, but also my dreams.  Because though I may not see it, I need to believe that I will eventually be able to pop the next bubble.