Amidst the tearful goodbyes, and even as the van, full of friends, moved slowly away, there was a feeling of hope and excitement about the paths we were all about to set out on. Throughout the orientation experience, I felt as if I was in the right place at the right time with the right people.

The right place? What does that mean? It could, of course, mean different things to different folks. To some, the right place could have been the hills and rolling fields of Camp Swatara, the rock pile, a patch of sunlight on the porch, or the four-square court. To others, maybe the right place was a game of Maui Maui, holding on for dear life inching through the ropes course, talking with friends by the fire or outside under the canopy of stars. Maybe the right place is all of those things and more.

Maybe it seemed like the right place because we all listened to the voice, which called us to service. We could have been anywhere, I think, and it would have been the right place.

Perhaps the idea of orientation feeling like the right time is absurd. I mean, if you are responding to a call of some kind, then when you arrive must be the right time, right? For some of us, it may have been that simple. For most, I believe, it wasn't.

I heard that call to service for years before I felt like the time was right. Not only was it the right time in my life to do this, but also the time of year, early fall, seemed an appropriate metaphor for what we were all going through.

I experienced the death of my "old" existence back home as the trees in Pennsylvania lost their leaves and the woods slowly sank into a death-like winter sleep. As slowly as the leaves above, I was changing too. We were all turning into something new, something good and powerful. The power to change the world, right?

As the days there were (mostly) sunny and warm, my days were consistently warmed by the people around me. My nights were often cold, dark, and frightening. Alone with my thoughts, I worried about the future, the project, and living without my friends and family. As much as I disliked waking up early, I was always happy to see my new friends. I knew I was with the right people.

Did any of you wonder, before coming to orientation, what the people there would be like? I think I was fairly optimistic. It was reasonable to assume that you would all be motivated, concerned people. I was pretty sure I would be in good company. Yet I was just a little afraid.

I was afraid I wouldn't meet anyone I could really relate to. I don't know why I thought that, but I didn't really expect to make any friends at orientation. Really, how close can you get to someone in three weeks? You all have your own answers to that question. I don't think you need me to tell you how special that group was. Take a few minutes now and remember the people you laughed and cried with.

You all are what kept me going. The volunteers and the staff all shine, I think, like the many different stars of a new and wonderful constellation. And what image does this cluster of shimmering stars resemble? In all of our unique humanity, I'd say it kind of looks like the face of God.