Loyal Lies

After begging Grandpa for permission, he finally agreed to let me volunteer with the storm relief efforts. We packed everything we could think of. Sleeping bags, canned food, water, you name it. The storm had apparently hit the next town over pretty hard, and they needed all the help they could get.

"All set?" Silas asked, holding the car door open for me. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when we got there. My heart sank.

This wasn't the "minor storm damage" I'd imagined. The entire town looked like it had been put through a blender. Streets I used to know were unrecognizable, with trees scattered everywhere and homes missing roofs. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. While I'd been curled up in my cozy bed at the mansion, listening to what I thought was just a bit of rain and wind, these people's lives were being turned upside down.

I stepped out of the car, my boots crunching on broken glass and debris. A group of volunteers was already hard at work, forming a human chain to clear fallen branches from someone's driveway. I saw an elderly woman sat on what remained of her front porch, clutching a photo album she'd managed to save. The sight made my throat tight.

"Milady," Silas touched my shoulder gently, "the coordination center is set up at the high school gym. They'll tell us where we're needed most."

I nodded before straightening my shoulders. I might have been sheltered, but I'm here now, and I'm going to help however I could. These people had lost almost everything, and the least I could do was roll up my sleeves and get to work.

As we walked into the high school gym, the scene was organized chaos. Volunteers in bright yellow vests rushed back and forth, carrying boxes of supplies and checking clipboards. The basketball court had been transformed into a makeshift command center, with different stations marked by handwritten signs like Medical Aid, Food Distribution, Housing Needs, and Supply Sorting.

A tired-looking woman with graying hair pulled into a messy bun spotted us and waved us over. "New volunteers? Thank goodness," relief evident in her voice. "I'm Linda, the coordinator. Do either of you have any specific skills like medical training, or construction experience?"

I shook my head, feeling a bit useless. "I... I just want to help however I can."

Linda's smile was warm despite her exhaustion. "Don't worry, honey. We need all hands on deck. Why don't you start at the supply sorting station? We've got donations coming in faster than we can organize them."

For the next few hours, I worked alongside other volunteers, sorting through mountains of donated clothes, toiletries, and food. My back ached from bending and lifting, but I didn't dare complain– not when I kept seeing families walking in with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

A little girl caught my eye as she clutched her mother's hand. She couldn't have been more than six, and she was wearing pajamas under a too-big coat. Her mother was trying to fill out a form while keeping her close.

Without thinking, I grabbed one of the stuffed animals we'd just sorted and walked over to them. "Hi there," I greeted the little girl before kneeling down to her eye level. "Would you like a new friend to keep you company?"

The way her face lit up when she saw the teddy bear made my heart both soar and break at the same time.

Her mother looked up from the form, her eyes glistening with tears. "Thank you, Miss. We had to leave so quickly... Emma's own teddy was left behind."

Emma hugged the bear tightly, burying her face in its soft fur. "What's your name?" she asked shyly, peeking up at me.

Before I could answer, Linda rushed over. "We need help in the kitchen. The lunch rush is starting, and we're short-handed. Can you manage serving food?"

"Of course," I gave Emma a quick smile before heading to the canteen. The scene there was just as busy as the gym. Steam rose from large pots of soup, and the air smelled like fresh bread. An elderly man in a chef's apron was directing volunteers with the authority of a general.

"Take this," he handed me a ladle. "Soup on the left, bread on the right. Make sure everyone gets enough, but we need to make it last."

He turned around before I could even respond. For the next two hours, I served bowl after bowl of hot soup. Each person who came through the line had a different story written on their face. Exhaustion, worry, relief at having a hot meal. Some tried to take less food, insisting others needed it more. Others fought back tears as they thanked us, as if the simple act of receiving a bowl of soup had broken through their last defenses.

Silas appeared occasionally, checking on me, but I waved him off each time. This wasn't about me being comfortable anymore. This was about being useful, about doing what needed to be done.

As evening approached, the initial chaos had settled into something more organized. But there was still so much to do. I was helping the chef clean up the kitchen when Linda appeared again. She looked even more exhausted than before.

"We've got families who can't go back to their homes tonight," she explained while running a hand through her now completely disheveled hair. "We're setting up sleeping areas in the classrooms. Could you help distribute blankets and sleeping bags?"

I found myself in a classroom that used to teach math, judging by the equations still scrawled on the whiteboard. Desks were pushed against walls to make space for temporary beds. As I handed out blankets, I spotted Emma and her mother again. They were settling into a corner, Emma already in her pajamas, the same ones she'd been wearing all day.

I approached them and pulled out an extra blanket from my stack. "Here. The nights get cold."

"Oh, one is enough," Emma's mother protested softly. "There must be other families who need it more."

"Please take it," I insisted. "Emma can use it for her fort." I smiled at the little girl who was already arranging her space with the teddy bear.

"You've been so kind, " he mother finally accepted the blanket with trembling hands. "I noticed you in the kitchen too. It's not often you see someone your age working so hard for strangers."

I felt my cheeks warm. "I... I just wish I could do more."

"Sometimes a small kindness means everything," she muttered, watching as Emma wrapped herself in the blanket like a cape. "Thank you."

I knelt beside Emma, watching her struggle with the blanket. Her determined little face reminded me of myself at that age, trying to build blanket forts in my room during stormy nights. "Want me to help you build the best fortress ever?"

While helping Emma arrange the blankets into walls, I thought about how a simple fort could make anywhere feel like home, even a classroom floor.

"Milady," Silas's voice came from behind me. "It's getting late. Your grandfather insisted you return before dark."

I turned to Emma and her mother. "I have to go now. Stay warm, okay?" Emma gave me a quick hug, her teddy bear squished between us. I gently patted her head before I followed Silas out.

"Can we come back tomorrow?" I asked Silas "There's still so much to do."

Silas's expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry, milady, but your grandfather was quite clear his orders. With your exams coming up, he feels you need to focus on your studies." He paused when he saw the disappointment on my face. "He did say you made him proud today, though."

I looked back at the school one last time. Through the windows, I could see families settling in for the night. I might have grown up in a mansion, but today I learned what true wealth looked like. It wasn't in the fancy car or expensive clothes. It was in the simple act of helping others, even if just for one day.

The drive home was quiet. My mind still with those families in the school gym. I might not be able to go back tomorrow, but I knew this experience had changed something in me forever.

"Would you like something to eat when we get home? You must be starving." Silas broke the silence.

"Remember that soup you brought to my room during the storm? That would be nice," I answered while keeping my eyes on the passing devastation outside the window. In a few hours, I'd be in my warm bed, comfortable and well-fed, while Emma and the others would be trying to sleep on a hard classroom floor. The thought made my chest tight. Even the simple bowl of soup I was craving now felt like too much of a luxury.