How Small Group Changes Lives
Written by Emma McCoy
5 minute read
“Previously on” Alan:
A teacher in his thirties, Alan struggled with depression most of his life. You might not know it looking at him, but he was deeply lonely, trapped by isolating behavior and the influence of a mother who abandoned him. After a chance encounter at a church recommended by his counselor, Alan befriended Gabriel, an elderly man involved in small groups at the church. After five years of friendship, Alan’s life has been radically changed through small, un-radical acts like attending Gabriel’s Bible study, showing up when his friend grieved, leading high school youth group, and letting his college-aged nephew Trevor move in with him. Though Trevor never considered himself “religious,” he wondered one day about his uncle’s transformation.
Alan was sitting in the kitchen grading papers when his nephew walked in. The papers themselves weren’t terrible this time around—high school seniors could, more or less, form a thought by the time they were about to graduate. And every class had a standout who Alan knew would go on to be a writer or lawyer or poet. But the past two years, he’d become more and more convinced that his students were turning in AI-generated work. There were no grammatical errors, no spelling mistakes, and no personality.
It made him sad to read a paper without “granite” for “granted.” He loved the small mistakes that students who’d never written out a certain word made. His personal favorite was perhaps “for all intensive purposes,” and he wondered if he would ever see it again. Surely the school would, at some point, step in.
“Hey Alan!” Trevor said. He slung his guitar on a chair and opened the fridge. “Anything in there worth reading?”
“Maybe,” Alan said. “Are the kids still using the Chat one, or have they moved on to another one?”
“I’m not sure about the kids, but I’m pretty sure at least half the people in my major are only going to pass because of ChatGPT.”
“It’s so sad,” Alan sighed, “to achieve something without actually doing anything.”
“That’s why I’ll just stick to music,” Trevor replied. “AI might make a bunch of it really fast, but I think people will still like live music. It’s lasted this long.”
“How was rehearsal?”
“Not too bad.” Trevor ate the leftover chicken from last night cold from the container. “Ria’s been a bit pitchy so she had Sandy kinda fought about it but they made up. Jay was great on drums.”
“I’m excited to see your show,” Alan said. “Is your mother able to come?”
“I think so,” Trevor said carefully. “She’ll probably drive up.” He paused, and Alan felt that he was going to ask something. Trevor had a way of weighing his words that made him feel older than a college senior.
“Why doesn’t Mom like you all that much?”
Alan paused. He hadn’t seen that question coming. He’d figured that at some point over the years, his sister would have told a few stories, dropped a few hints, or explained to her son what had happened in her house growing up. Apparently not. He sighed, and thought about what his friend Gabriel might advise him to do.
Tell the truth.
“Your mother is a bit older than me,” Alan started. “So it was her and our parents for a while before I showed up. Her father died right after I was born—I didn’t know him at all, but she felt the loss. And Mom…she didn’t handle her grief well, or take it to anyone, so she clung onto me, the baby, because I was uncomplicated. I don’t think she meant to, but she started to ignore your mother. It didn’t make our relationship easy, especially because she left a few years later and didn’t look back. Then when I grew up and became complicated, my mother started ignoring me too. If I had to guess, I’d say I represent a really bad time in your mother’s life.”
“She wasn’t exactly thrilled about me moving in,” Trevor said quietly.
“But she let it happen,” Alan pointed out. “She wants the best for you. And if she’d ever like to talk about our mom, or her life, or anything, I’m here. I’d love it. Well, it’d be very awkward, but still. I’d like to get to know her.”
Trevor thought some more. “Maybe that’d be a good idea.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s just…I don’t know, I’ve never said it, but you’re a lot different than my mom thinks you are. Like, she had this idea that you were a sort of recluse, or kept to yourself too much, or had this dead-end life, but you don’t. You do all this stuff with your church and group and job and it’s a shame she doesn’t see it.”
“Well,” Alan replied, “it’s really because of the church that my life changed. Your mom wasn’t that far off—ten years ago my life was pretty lonely.”
“What changed?”
Alan cast around until he found something he thought Trevor might connect to. “It was like my life was just a single note. Nothing interesting—simply one note played over and over again. I had a feeling that other people’s lives had more depth or more sound to them, but I couldn’t access it. It wasn’t until I gave other people a chance again—which led to me to church, and more people—that I picked up more and more notes until my life became a song. And that song isn’t complete without Jesus. There would be a harmony, or crucial beat missing without Him. My whole life I wanted to sound right, and Jesus was waiting until I invited him to play.”
Trevor finished eating. Alan couldn’t tell how much he was engaging with, or if he was following at all.
“I think I know what you mean,” Trevor said finally. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it said that way before.”
The conversation took a few more turns after that, and the moment passed. Alan didn’t worry about it. Trevor left for ultimate frisbee, and Alan made dinner after finishing his grading, setting some food aside for his nephew. Later, he was reading in the living room when his phone buzzed.
It was his sister. The last time she’d texted had been three years ago when she’d dropped some things of Trevor’s off.
Will you be at the concert? the text read.
To most people, the message wasn’t much, but to Alan it was everything.
Who in your life would you like to share this with?
About the author
Spring Church member, Emma McCoy (M.A.), has two poetry books: This Voice Has an Echo (2024) and In Case I Live Forever (2022). She’s been published in places like Across the Margin, Stirring Literary, and Thimble Mag. She reads for Chestnut Review and Whale Road Review. She’s probably working on her novel right now. Catch her on Substack: https://poetrybyemma.substack.com/