Volunteer
Leilani Kapua โ

11
The church sanctuary was quiet as Sarah Kim, our Director of Outreach, stood at the podium. Her usual confident tone was softer, tinged with emotion. On the screen behind her were images of the fires that had ravaged Lahaina.
โThis is personal for me,โ she began, her voice steady but raw. โMy aunt and cousins live in Lahaina. They lost everythingโtheir home, their business, their sense of security. Theyโre safe, but so many others are struggling. Thatโs why weโre organizing this trip. This isnโt about charity; itโs about standing with the people there and helping them rebuild.โ
Sarahโs eyes swept across the room, pausing on each of us. โFor those interested in coming, this isnโt a trip for sightseeing. Youโll cover your own airfare, and take time away from your jobs and lives, but the church will arrange housing and food. Youโll be clearing debris, distributing supplies, and assisting the people whoโve lost everything.โ
I felt a tightness in my chest. The images on the screenโof blackened landscapes and tents serving as makeshift sheltersโtore into my soul. I knew then that I would go.
Two weeks later, I arrived in Lahaina with a small group from our church. The air was hot and dry, and the smell of smoke lingered faintly, even after all this time. We were greeted by Kalani Ikaika, the local coordinator. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his early fifties, with a salt-and-pepper beard and deep lines etched into his sun-weathered face. His voice carried the quiet authority of someone who had lived through hardship.
โThank you for coming,โ he said, his tone firm but kind. โBut let me be clearโthis isnโt about saving anyone. This is about standing alongside people whoโve been through more than you can imagine. Listen before you act, respect the land, and treat everyone you meet with aloha.โ