The Community Center

Mayor Bill Starek’s voice droned his speech as Mary Sinclaire fidgeted in her seat.

“…And thus, I would like to make a declaration about a woman in our community, a woman who deserves so much more than our meager plaque can give. Her selflessness in the face of everything thrown at her and her graciousness in her efforts to make our community a better one. Everyone should follow her example and show the human kindness and love towards community that she has shown. This woman is a hero. I am not talking of a simple everyday hero, but in fact one of epic proportions. She not only saved the day, but she also saved our community…”

           The old blowhard was going on with gusto and she didn’t feel at all like she was the hero, in fact she knew she didn’t deserve this. She just got the funds to fix the old community center for the children. Whoop de do! She found funds to create an environment that was safe for the town’s kids. The old community center was always there, just shut down and condemned. She got the funds and had it completely fixed up, got people to donate time, resources, and anything she could get to fix the center.

           The center was only a building, she got the funds, the town did the work. Why was she a simple accountant getting a award instead of the people who put in their labor and time for free to fix the center. She found money; they did the work.

           The mayor completely missed the point in his speech and was creating a pillar of solid diamond for her to stand on. Metaphorically of course. She just made a few phone calls to stores and shops and collected a few funds to begin fixing the place. Others stepped up and offered services for free, some even paid for their own materials.

When it came time to paint the center the local high school art teacher volunteered his class, they used it towards their senior projects and got good grades for it. They painted scenes of the town, a panel with the local Christmas Pageant and Lighted Parade, the Fall Harvest Festival, the Spring Car Show, and the Independence Day Bar-B-Q and Picnic. There were other scenes of course, these were just the main ones in the lobby and main hall. Each room had a mural scene.

All she did was find funds, she never actually worked on the building, never raised a hammer, or carried a box with trash in it, nor did she help lay the flooring or climb on the roof to replace parts of it that were damaged. Mary knew the real heroes. They were sitting there applauding her. Joe the Plumber, Indian Pete the general construction engineer, Bob the electrician, Stacy the art teacher and all her students, even the mayor himself who did the roof by himself. She didn’t deserve this award.

She had thought to not come and even tried to hide. But the mayor and his cronies found her and dragged her here. They basically kidnapped her to bring her to her own ceremony. It was her ceremony, she thought indignantly, why she couldn’t just skip it anyway was beyond her!

Mary just couldn’t accept this award; she couldn’t think of any reason she was a hero for this town. She just found money the town did the work.

“…and so, as I digress on how wonderful our hero is, it is high time I give her the award she truly deserves. May I present Mary Sinclaire, the lady of the hour and our hero.” He began clapping and the crowds joined in, there were whistles and shouts of “Go Mary!” “You Go Girl!” “You’re Awesome!” Mary sighed and stood and woodenly walked towards the mayor. The whole town seemed to have turned out for this. One art student sat on the edge of the stage as she sketched. This was the very last mural to be put on the walls of the Community Center. It would grace the front next to the doors. It was a portrait of Mary. The bright red ribbon stretching across the doors were ready to be cut and this ceremony would be over. She would receive a plaque she didn’t deserve, a second identical plaque would be inside the main lobby, and the new sign to the community center would be revealed.

They named it the Mary Sinclaire Community Center for Children. Her name forever immortalized on plaque, in face and in name on the building!

The mayor stepped forward and took her hand in his, shaking it as he pulled her along to the podium where he thrust a plaque into her hands.

“Speech! Speech! Speech!’ cried the crowd. The mayor clapped his hands and stepped back to give her room.

“I… uh… I…” She froze and looked out at the crowd in front of her. She saw the Art teacher, Stacy, she was watching Mary with such pride, then behind her to the left, Joe the plumber, he grinned from ear to ear, pride in her beaming out, Indian Pete was the one whistling, and Bob the electrician pounding his hands together so hard he had to be shaking the whole row where he sat.

She turned and looked at the mayor. He was clapping his hands and smiling at her. She stood there taking it all in, she saw the students in the crowd and knew which murals each did and how beautiful each looked.

How could she not see it? Was she really that stupid? Mary looked at the community before her. No, she really was stupid. They really did think she was a hero, not for the funds. No, it was her small start that got a community to become a community and more than just another town. They had rebuilt the Community Center, she found the funds, but she brought them together. That was how she was a hero. She looked at the plaque and started crying. Wiping her tears away quickly she smiled broadly. “Thank you for teaching me what a community is.” She said simply. She dearly hoped her moment of epiphany would be the mural the student painted.