Selling Hopes and Dreams

Photo by Fancycrave on Unsplash

It wasn’t the best volunteer position at the carnival, but it wasn’t the worst. At least she didn’t have to handle food.

The mid-day shifts she’d been assigned meant she’d sit here alone, selling raffle tickets for the days' drawings taking place every other hour over the course of the three-day school carnival.

The crowd during the middle of the day was made up of mostly of the volunteers and their unattended children running crazy through the rides and booths. They weren’t interested in buying a raffle ticket for a blender, or whatever the upcoming gift was.

Meghan Fitzpatrick rubbed her shoulders and neck, rolling her head in slow circles, then stood up and stretched her back by leaning back as far as she could.

“Careful there!” Teri Johnson, another mom-volunteer warned from her tent, table, and chair next to Meghan. “You might start a wave.”

Teri stood up too and stretched, raising her arms above her head before falling over into a forward bend, pushing her nose to her knees. Meghan wasn’t going there.

The women surveyed the space, normally the field on which their children played, transformed into the annual carnival with the arrival of monstrous looking machines designed to entertain and delight children while terrifying parents. Those things just didn’t look safe.

Checking the time on her phone, Meghan sighed and flipped it over. She’d been there all of ten minutes and had four hours to go.

She picked up the roll of tickets and ripped off two. Handing one to Teri she joked, “here’s to winning.”

Teri held the ticket in the air, “Oh yeah! Here it is! The winning ticket!”

Meghan did the same, waving her’s above her head, “Mine too! Mine too! Here it is! My ship has come in!”

The women laughed, a few chuckles, and then settled back into their comfortable silence as they waited for customers needing tickets for rides from Teri, or raffle tickets from Meghan.