If Tools Could Talk
Kayla Norrod is from Romeo, Michigan and a student at Michigan State University, where she studies Elementary Education. This summer, Kayla was a Service Project Manager. In her role, Kayla scheduled service projects, coordinated material deliveries, and facilitated volunteers on their worksites.
At the end of each summer, we dedicate an entire day to cleaning our tool shed. It’s the hub of my summer—a place where countless projects begin and end. This year, as we counted nails, sorted screws, cleaned paintbrushes, and folded cleaning rags, I couldn’t help but think: These tools must have some stories to tell.
Every hammer, every paint roller, every worn-down shovel has been in the hands of someone pouring love into a home. Each one has been part of something bigger—something that, for each family we serve, is deeply personal and life-changing.
Over the course of our six-week Youth Summer Ministry program, we completed 245 service projects and served 192 individual households. Each project was unique, not just in the work we did but in the lives we touched.
Mountain T.O.P.’s mission is big: to eliminate substandard housing in rural Appalachia. But the way we go about it feels simple and tangible. Every project we complete falls into one of three categories:
Safe Entries & Exits – Porches, stairs, roofs, and wheelchair ramps.
Resource Preservation – Painting and staining to protect homes from the elements.
Healthy Environments – Yard work and cleanup to improve quality of life.
“Each tool has been part of something bigger—something that, for each family we serve, is deeply personal and life-changing.”
I’ve seen homeowners who were essentially trapped inside their houses, unable to safely navigate broken steps or steep drop-offs. Then, after a few short days of sawdust, sweat, and teamwork, they can move freely from their front door to the outside world. That moment when they first roll or walk down their new ramp? You can see the weight lift from their shoulders. It’s more than wood and nails—it’s a bridge to independence. And that’s just one story among hundreds. Each paintbrush stroke in resource preservation fights against weather damage, helping homes stand strong for years to come. Every healthy environment project—whether pulling weeds, clearing brush, or mowing overgrown yards—turns neglected spaces into places of pride and safety.
Back in the tool shed, holding these items in my hands, I’m reminded that they are not just tools—they are instruments of hope. They’ve built porches where neighbors gather, repaired roofs that keep families dry, and created safe paths for people to come and go as they please.
When I look around at the organized shelves after that long day of cleaning, I don’t just see hammers and rakes. I see stories. Stories of work that mattered. Stories that will keep being written long after the summer dust has settled.
Because here on this mountain, every project—big or small—changes someone’s life. And every tool we put away is ready for its next story.
“Then, after a few short days of sawdust, sweat, and teamwork, they can move freely from their front door to the outside world. ”
