Hyde Park Speaks

Dresses for Misses in South Africa

by Cheri Roland

Doug and I want to share with you the joy we experienced when distributing the darling pillow case dresses that you dedicated HPUMC members created and sent with the mission team last August. It wasn’t until now that the timing was right to pass on these gifts. We felt we should present the dresses to a very special saint in person. Sister Gail Trollip is the founder of Tabitha Ministries; you can see her standing beneath the TABITHA banner holding the dresses. In 1998 she opened her garage to care for forgotten HIV /AIDS children. Since then, her mission has grown exponentially, now utilizing the old city bus station, providing housing, schooling, and loving care for 35 infected little ones. She just returned to “active duty” after a six month’s recovery from extensive back surgery. Gail and her team have been an integral agency for the seminary’s Field Education and Ministry course since 2011. Our seminarians are learning so much about serving the Lord through their experiences here.

 The little girls in the photos were THRILLED with the dresses (yet to be given the correct sizes) with their bright colors and unusual designs.  They have never had a new dress, have never had a dress of their very own, or ever worn any piece of clothing that was not a hand-me-down.  And now they are going to be hugged by the love of God through the gifts from Hyde Park who sewed the dresses, as well as you who gave up room in your luggage to carry this love from Tampa to Pietermaritzburg.  Standing behind those happy girls are seminarians Xabiso Socatsha, Getty Zatu, Siyabonga Ntombela, Mazwenkosi Nomxego, Andile Sikhakhana, and Nokhuthula Ngidi (to my left).

So, Doug and I just wanted to THANK YOU for giving us the opportunity to Make God’s Love Real once again through the care, generosity, love and dedication of you, our church family.  We are so blessed to be here in SA on your behalf. 

 

Could it be any harder?

by Trish Krider

I started running last year.  What I like most about it is when I am done.  I don’t seem to ever achieve that “runner’s high” that people talk about.  I struggle every time to reach my goal – often not succeeding.   You see, for me, running is as much a challenge for my mind as it is for my body.  I can always convince myself that “I can’t run another step”.

Today was just such a day.  I was running along Bayshore and had reached that point where I just didn’t want to do it anymore.  I could see my goal in the distance – far in the distance – but I didn’t believe that I had it in myself to run that far.  That’s when I started thinking, “Really, Trish, how hard is it?”

Could it be any harder than the day earlier this year when my friend had to bury her baby?  Could it be any harder than the job my daughter has as a social worker helping struggling families or that my son has as a pilot in the military? Could it be any harder than a mother struggling to repair a relationship with her grown child? Could it be any harder than handling those dark secrets with which the person next to you is struggling?  Could anything be harder than Christ giving his life for us?

While I continued to run, I began to thank God.  I thanked him for legs that are strong enough to allow me to run, unlike the person I passed who struggled with a walker.   I thanked him for the home I was running to, unlike those whose homes are the benches I passed.  I thanked him for strong lungs and health, unlike those lying in the beds at the hospital just across the water.

As I crossed the final bridge, the dorsal fin of a dolphin sliced through the sun-glinted water of the bay and I knew that God had been speaking to me.  And for the first time in a long time, I had been listening.

Philippians 4:13 – I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

The Birth of Jesus Retold In Modern Times

by John Parrish

More than 2,000 years old, the Advent story keeps finding new ways to spread.

This video was shared this past Sunday as part of the sermon.

 

The Greatest Gift

by Amy Schmucker

I don't believe in Magic but I like to think that today will be a Magical Monday.  I am setting my mind to have a great day, dental cleaning included. The reason today is so great is that yesterday was so fantastic and my yesterday is overflowing into today. OK that is kinda magical isn't it? I have to share with you something that made my heart grow five times it's size yesterday. Actually it wasn't so much a something as a someone. I can't tell you his name because I don't know it. I will tell you that God used him to minister to me as much as God used me to minister to him. Here is the story.

Sunday morning church was a flurry of events. We have our advent Chistmon Tree all decorated and in the front of the church.  We have our Alternative Christmas Market on display in our activities center and we have a number tables set up for toy drive and the sign up for bell ringers in our courtyard.  Every Sunday we have our Open Arms ministry feeding the hungry. Its a full  breakfast for anyone who might need a meal and a safe place to have the meal out of the weather.  I understand we can feed as many as 300 people on Sunday morning. This is not for our regular church attendance. This is for folks down on their luck. The hard terminology is Homeless or Unemployed.  In today's economy we are seeing so many folks who are struggling and this even includes the working at times.  Occasionally some of these visitors will come and share a pew with us in our service.

Service begins with music. We have an introduction song that helps people understand that service is starting and they need to get into their seats. Then two songs are sung followed by someone welcoming us to service, usually from one of our pastors and then our final worship song. At the end of the final worship song, our worship leader will say: "before you take your seats, greet one another in the name of our Lord". 

Now comes the fun part. I  turn to the people all around me, left, right, front, back, back and to the left, back and to the right, front and to the right.. you get the picture.  I introduce myself with "Hi, I am Amy, welcome to church, so glad to have you here today."  Most people just say, "Good morning", but once they hear me introduce myself they will actually look me in the eye and also introduce themselves too.  Yesterday was no different. Well OK it was otherwise you wouldn't be getting this long drawn out story.  Yesterday I turned around and greeted the three people behind me when I saw this fellow standing behind me and to my right. I had to lean on the pew to reach him, but I held out my hand and he looked up and I clasp his hand in mind and gave him a great big smile and welcomed him to the service.  I noticed he was not a member. He wasn't shaved. He wasn't really dressed for church, even with our dress comfortable casual service. He didn't have very clean fingernails and his clothes probably had not been washed recently. All that didn't matter. I was in the moment and I needed to tell him that he was a child of God and welcomed here. I needed to let him know he was my brother in Christ Jesus and he can still have Joy in his heart even with life's difficulties thrown at him. How do you say all that in three seconds? I will tell you how. Big warm smile that light's up your entire face, eye contact that holds their eyes and a warm clasp of their hand that says, I am your friend and want to share a moment with you.  That's just what I did.  What I didn't know is what it meant to him.

After the service I got up to leave, speaking to others that I knew. I was busy wishing people a wonderful holiday season when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was sure it was another friend of mine wanting to wish me a Merry Christmas. Turning around I was surprised to see this same new face that was behind me in the pew. I looked up, confused and waited. He said in a very unexpected joyful tone, "Thank you for the brightest smile today". And then I just turned away, being pushed forward by the others trying to leave the sanctuary to retrieve their children from Sunday School and to do more shopping in the alternative market.  My heart soared through the rafters of church as I proceeded down the aisle. I silently thanked God as I was used to brighten someone's day. Then it occurred to me that my new friend had just made my day. He confirmed Gods work in me. I was were I was suppose to be doing the work God created me to do. A smile. That was my job yesterday. 

Hours later I reflected on this chance meeting and thought I should have asked him his name. Somehow it was OK that I didn't know his name, I knew God did. I didn't know anything about this fellow other than he sat behind me yesterday at church.  The more I have reflected on this moment, the more my heart grew.  Mean words just tear us down while kind words lift us up. I believe you can find that exact idea in the book of Proverbs.

Proverbs 12:18 NIV
The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

Always speak the gospel, use words if you have to.

Keith, Shepherds and Immanuel

By Mandy Cloninger 

On Thanksgiving Day, I met a God loving and fearing man named Keith. He shared with me that he had served nine months in prison and was released on the day prior. He had come to Metropolitan Ministries on Thanksgiving seeking God, wanting to walk a closer path with Him, encouraged that his employer said he could come back to work that Saturday, and carrying his Bible and wearing a white pair of sandal-like shower shoes, the only shoes he had while in prison. He asked if we might have a pair of shoes for him; a size 12 if possible. A pair of shoes were located in the thrift store, a size 13 pair of Asics. We hoped they fit him ok.

Keith worshipped that morning in the holiday tent, received communion and one of the preachers who served that morning prayed with Him. Before Keith departed he located one of our staff and the same preacher who prayed with him that morning, and he wanted to say thank you.

He said, I was given these cards while I was in prison, but I didn’t have anyone to send them to, and I wanted to give one to you and say thank you.

The message on the card was one of love.

You are loved… You have a purpose... You are not alone…

Keith reminded me of the shepherds; they were on the outskirts, despised, overlooked, shunned by most.

“Yet, we are loved by a God who sees the overlooked. He looks at our hearts, not our place in society. So at the birth of his only Son, God chose a group of people invisible to most of the world to celebrate the good news of their Savior’s birth. After hearing from God, the shepherds immediately went to witness the miracle for themselves, after which they spread the glorious news far and wide (The Advent Conspiracy.)”

I thank God for Keith, that he showed me Immanuel this Advent season. That God is with us, and it is through expressions of love to one another that we share the most precious gift of our Savior this Christmas.

Like the shepherds and Keith, that's the story we should be singing in exultation at Christmas.

Glory to God, and God Bless You, Keith.

“The Lord your God is with you… He will quiet you with His love…” Zephaniah 3:17

 

 

Final thoughts - a personal reflection

by Trish Krider

October 21, 2011

As the journalist for the group it has been my job to try to convey to the readers of this blog what we have seen and experienced here.  Every year I find this to be more of a challenge because each year what I see causes less of a gut-wrenching reaction in me than it did the year before.  It is still as painful to see as it was the first time, but not as shocking. I struggle to try to convey to you all that I have seen and felt and then realize that there are no words that deep.  I can only give you a glimpse – and that is what I have tried to do.  It has helped me that I have learned from these people that poverty does not equate to unhappiness.  They face each day with a smile and go out and make the best life they can. 

This experience was different in many ways from other visits.  The weather was starkly different offering cool breezes, chilly nights and challenges to the daily schedule.  We have always had a friendly staff, but never has the staff danced across the kitchen for our entertainment – and never have we broken into song to entertain them. Bill was not here this year but it was wonderful to have Vanessa, who fills his role admirably and who glows when she talks of her people.  We had wonderful devotionals about things such as giants, forgiveness, prayer and joy, but being such a small group allowed for a new depth of insight and conversation for the entire group.

It is time to begin the transition back to my everyday life.  The last day here, touring a bit of Managua, having a nice meal at a lovely hotel, cooling off in the pool, allows me to decompress.  This is always a necessity as I know tomorrow I will board a plane home to my loved ones and what I have seen and experienced here will no longer consume my every thought. 

There is some guilt involved in the prospect of returning home to the relative luxury of my life after what I have seen here.  To say it is “different” is to minimize its contrast with my reality.  But I am so grateful that I have experienced a peek at life here where there are stark contrasts to my life in every snapshot.  I have seen the poverty of Appalachia and it barely compares to what I have seen here.

Coming here each year reminds me that I need to think twice about the things about which I complain.  This is always foremost in my mind when I get home.  So I will remind myself when I complain about the potholes on Bayshore Boulevard that at least we have paved roads.  When it rains and the gutters don’t drain the way they should, instead of complaining about the high water I must drive around, I will be grateful that the road has not become a quagmire of mud.  When I have to clean the floors because of the mud someone has dragged in, I will be thankful that the floor itself is not made of mud.  The next time I whine about waiting so long for the water to get hot enough for my shower, I will think of the cold showers I took here and be thankful that I have an option.  When again I have to flip the handle on the toilet to get the water to stop running, I will be thankful that I do not have to use an outhouse and when I face unpredictable water pressure, I will be grateful I do not have to go to a well to retrieve it.

Every year when I come back from Nicaragua and people ask me, “How was it?”  It is a difficult question to answer.  I cannot say, “It was wonderful” as I would if I had been on a vacation.  I can say, ”It was beautiful”, for it is a truly breathtaking country, but this would only describe the scenery and I did not come here as a tourist.  I can say, “It was an experience”, but that doesn’t begin to describe the depth of my feelings.  So I usually answer them thusly – “It has changed my life”.  For how can it not?

It has renewed my commitment to my faith.  It has helped me develop friendships with the sisters and brothers in Christ who accompanied me here.  It has opened my eyes to the realization that being poor does not mean that you do not face each morning with a smile.  It has shown me that every believer has the ability to be the body of Christ in the world.  It has confirmed to me that we are truly one world and that every action we take has a ripple effect reaching further than we can imagine.  And it has strengthened my resolve to live out my faith more fully.

So when I return to my everyday life, when the hustle and bustle distracts me from the person I see in me when I am here, I will endeavor to look in your eyes and ask myself, “Do you see Jesus in me?”

Your 2001 Hyde Park Nicaragua Mission Team - Trish, Debbie, Steve, Glenn, Mike, Vicki and Jim

 

Here comes the sun!

by Trish Krider

October 20, 2011

As I sat on the porch this morning listening to God’s creation around me, I saw shadows indicating the sun’s feeble attempt to make an appearance.  At first hopeful that perhaps our last day here would not be dominated by the ever-present rain, I then realized that I have gotten to the place where that really doesn’t matter.  Yes, the rain has made for some uncomfortable and unpredictable moments this week and, on more than one occasion, it has forced us to alter our plans for the day.  It has also allowed us unscheduled time together as a group and it has definitely added to the development of cohesion among us.  Our conversations in the rocking chairs have been deep, thought provoking and powerful.

Today we travelled to “El Jardencito”, The Little Garden, a preschool in a rural area.  Under the shade of a tree in her front yard, Ramona started this school knowing that, without it, there would be no pre-school for the local children.  As we climbed the hill up to her house we were greeted by a few dozen children with their hands clasped.  We quickly realized we were expected to grasp their hands in ours in greeting.  They were welcoming us and clasping their hands together was for hygienic reasons, to prevent the spread of germs.  To me it appeared they were approaching us ready for prayer, knowing that we had come to share the word of God.

After a welcoming song from the children, we again performed out skit of forgiveness.  Mike and Jim have obviously been honing their craft after-hours as their performance was the best one this week.  With a little assistance the children completed the craft and participated in the balloon game with abandon.  Again Mario changed the requirements of the game and soon the children were batting the ball around while hopping on one foot. 

Ramona shared her gratitude for all we had done with the children and made it clear that this school would not exist as it does today without the assistance of the mission teams from El Ayudante.  Although, weather permitting, the children still meet under her large tree, she also has a classroom so that school can still be conducted when the weather is not cooperating.  We were pleased that today it was as the tree made such a beautiful canopy under which to share our story.  For Ramona, this is a volunteer position although she does receive a stipend of $25 per month from the government – if it is available.  According to Ramona, in her words, “I will stay here until God says, ‘Come on over’!”   We know our mission here is to make God’s love real to the Nicaraguan people.  As Jesus said in Matthew 26:40, "I assure you, all that you do for one of my brothers, even the least of these, you do this for me.”  So as we go about our business here, we are always looking for “Jesus moments” – those times when we see Jesus in the people around us.  This was one such moment.


Upon our return to the mission house the sun was still shining and we noticed some men working on the perimeter wall.  With time to spare before lunch, the men headed off to, as Jim put it, “Enjoy the first sweat of the week.”  They worked for an hour side by side with the Nicaraguan workers, many of whom they have worked with before, hauling sand and gravel, mixing concrete, and adding mortar to the walls. 

You don’t have to wander far from the sturdy, concrete walls of the mission house to see the most minimal of accommodations in which many of the people here live.  The homes in town are of a similar construction to the mission house and, although providing more protection from the elements, often house a number of generations.  Mario’s siblings, for example, work in Managua during the week where they maintain a small apartment.  But they return home on the weekends to live with their parents – all 13 sharing the same small house.  But dotted along the roads we travel are dwellings far
inferior to any found in even the poorest areas of Tampa.  Constructed from whatever materials are available (plastic, cardboard, old roofing tin) these humble dwellings serve to provide some shelter from the elements. 

Surely the residents make every attempt to maintain their residence to keep out the pounding rain, however, more often than not, this proves to be an effort in futility.  I imagine there are times when the dirt floors are turned to mud and, we have been told, the most common reason that school gets cancelled is because too few children show up, so many of them sick from the dampness that could not be held back with the leaky roof.

We began our final evening here in darkness as the electricity failed for a bit – not an uncommon occurrence here, but one we had not yet experienced this week.  The kitchen ladies provided us with a large candle and later, even though the electricity had returned, we sat around this candle in a tight circle of rocking chairs sharing deep thoughts. We felt the presence of Jesus in this light.  It was hard to hear as the rain was now pounding on the tin roof – there was even a little rumbling of thunder – but we spoke just louder, praising God in our conversation. 

It will be sad to leave here in the morning as we will be heading to Matagalpa in the first leg of our journey home to our loved ones.  This group has become a spiritual family.  We care for each other, uplift each other, support each other and have developed a closeness that might not have been possible in a larger group and we will continue to be brothers and sisters even after we return to our daily lives.

Bears - a bright spot on a dreary day

by Trish Krider

Each time we come to El Ayudante we bring supplies to donate to each school that we plan to visit. 
Simple things such as pencils, crayons and paper are a luxury here.  The classrooms are furnished simply with desks, and humble ones at that.  There is no need for lockers or backpacks as there are no books for the students to carry and no notebooks for them to store.  Lessons are done on a blackboard, if one is available or on large sheets of paper taped to the walls.  Even doing a craft activity can be a challenge as not every chair has a desk attached.  But these are children who are used to sharing – you will often see them sitting two in a desk – and taking care of each other. 

Today’s school was the Grandma Carmen’s pre-school.  The first thing we noticed upon entering this one room school is that, by Nicaraguan standards, this school is well supplied.  The teacher explained to us that the school was started because, years ago, there was only one school in the local area.  Unfortunately, half of the children had to cross a busy road to get to it. Tragically one young girl was struck and killed on her way to school one day.  When word of this tragedy reached an organization in Miami, they made it their mission to build a school on the other side of the road. The woman who owned the land on which it was built named it after her beloved grandmother who also had a passion for educating children.

The game that we have chosen this year involves teams of children batting a balloon around.  The object is to keep the balloon aloft as well as within the outlined parameters of a circle.  In some schools the decibel level of the squealing can become deafening within the confines of a classroom, as the rain has forced us to move our games indoors this year.  In a stroke of inspiration our translator decided to spice up the game a bit (and curb the rising volume of excitement) by having the children play the game in silence.  If anyone on a team forgot the rule and spoke out, the other team got a “point”.  It was great entertainment for us to watch them try to stifle their words and their giggles.

The children in today’s school were so little that we dared not attempt to corral them into a circle made
 of rope and sat them in a circle of chairs instead.  It was a challenge enough to get them to understand that they had to pass it, not throw it, to the person next to them.  After a little practice, however, they caught on.  With time to spare when the game was done we asked if they would like to play again.  One little girl said, “No, estamos cansados” – We are tired.  We all laughed and decided to play again anyway.  Perhaps we should have listened as it appeared their interest waned dramatically through the second round. 

We shared our Hyde Park Bear Ministry with these children.  Explaining to the teacher that bears just like these sit in our pews at home and that they come to them to assure them of God’s love and healing power, we placed one in each of their hands.  We said goodbye as they made their way down the muddy road towards home clutching their little bears and hoped they understood how much love went along with them.

The Hogar Cristiano Nicaragüensa (Nicaraguan Christian Home or HCN) is an on-campus facility that many children used to call home.  It now offers the children meals and a safe place to come and do their
homework on weekdays.  Normally the children eat their evening meal at home but today we were providing meat pies and baked goods for them and their families.  Vanessa, the director of El Ayudante, is proud of her Nicaraguan heritage and wants these families to understand that it is as important to give as to receive.  To assist them in doing so, she invited them to come and work with us this afternoon.  So side-by-side with these local families we began the project of painting the local women’s clinic.  The parents painted as the older children entertained the little ones.  One mother wielded a paint brush in one hand while balancing a baby on the opposite hip.  No one, not even the HCN director in his business casual attire, gave a thought to the possibility of paint on their clothing.  They simply picked up a brush and we worked in unison. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that this was the most gratifying work experience of this week.

We then walked back to the HNC to serve these families a meal.  Arriving ahead of the group, Vicki sat with some of the older girls and, in serpentine fashion, they braided each other’s hair.  As the rest of the group arrived they wandered through the house.  On one wall of an office they saw that someone had fashioned “Bill Cox” out of pipe cleaners and mounted it on the wall.  So his dream, his legacy and his memory are as alive here today, as when he headed home to Tennessee last year.

Flexibility is the name of the game

by Trish Krider

October 18, 2011

There’s lots of chattering in the mornings here, but only by the wildlife around us.  You may hear a rooster crow, the birds chirping, the geckos chattering, and you will most definitely hear the patter of rain on the leaves, but you will not hear us talking. Carrying on a tradition that started when our first team came, we do not speak before breakfast to anyone but God. We move around quietly knowing that even the noise of the scraping of a chair is an offense to the ears, disrupting God’s symphony and the contemplations of our fellow missioners.  It is a quiet time for reflection and prayer.  It helps to center us and prepare us for the day ahead. 

In Nicaragua, it would be absurd to think that students would have a “snow day”, but then I don’t think many of us have experienced a “rain day”.  This is what altered our plans for today.  There are many times here when the children do not come to school due to the overabundance of rain.  Neither the
roads nor the schools are well built so whether it was a washed out road or a leaky roof that caused 30 pre-schoolers to stay home this morning we do not know.  We pondered the question of how these parents received the information that a decision had been made to close school.  There is no internet nor are there phones in these rural communities so I would presume there is a back-yard, over-the-fence communication network that is put to use in situations such as these.  With no other plans to fill our schedule, we remained at the mission house for the morning.  We read, we talked, and some of us played Scrabble – the Spanish version.  It was a wonderful language lesson for all of us and a time to bond with our interpreters.

The unexpected time at the house also allowed us to grant a very special request. Four years ago, when Tara Ruberg made the choice to be a part of this mission trip and invite members of her family to join her, she had no idea the impact it would have on them.  June and Bobby Robertson, her sister and brother-on-law were among that group.  Bobby had done many mission trips in his life but after his week
at El Ayudante he told his wife that this trip had meant the most to him.  Bobby was a cardiologist and spent much of his time here working with the local doctor, Dr. Medina.  Bobby passed away this year and June sent his stethoscope to Vicky and requested that it be given to Dr. Medina to be used in this place which had such an impact on him.  We were all moved when he gratefully accepted the gift, promising to put it to good use.  Mario, our translator and himself a pharmacist, thanked us as well saying, “This makes me feel so good because we are doing something good to touch the heart of the people.”

We also donated to this same clinic a bag full of empty pill bottles.  Four years ago part of our group volunteered at this clinic and had no way to dispense the medicines to the patients so, in a show of ingenuity, they used the fingers of rubber gloves as their containers.  The bottles donated today came from a friend of Vicki.  These are the bottles that held all of the medications that she took while battling cancer.  Her request was that they be used for some greater purpose and we are sure that they will.

The special needs school where we again worked this afternoon is made up of a number of long buildings surrounding a “quad” type area that was half paved, and half vegetation.  Last year we had noticed that one of the larger buildings was not being used.  When we inquired about it, we were told that it had a leaky roof.  This is the building we are working on this year.  Our money has provided the workers and materials for a beautiful new roof and once the rebar has been painted and installed, this building will again be functional.

Since we are now experts at our technique, we set about painting rebar once again.  Most of us just picked a spot and began to do our best with the small, stiff brush to cover the surface of the bar.  Some, however, developed their own style.  For Trish and Mario, they squared off on either side of the bar and
did the “paintbrush Salsa”, so dubbed because the brushes worked in tandem appearing to dance over the bar.  Meanwhile, Debbie and Steve approached the task with such perfectionism that we thought perhaps they were trying to give Michelangelo a run for his money.  But either way, we came home a little less “speckled” than yesterday.  Of course Mike cheated a bit by wearing a pancho, but he was the one risking life and limb on a rickety ladder to reach the high places, so we gave him a pass.

Communication here is a challenge for all of us.  We do have wonderful translators, but often we attempt to hurdle the language barrier on our own.  This has provided for some entertaining moments.  The other night as we stood on line for dinner, Glenn decided to practice his Spanish skills.  He boldly asked one of the cooks what her name was.  “Arroz”, she answered.  To which he replied, “Hola, Rosa!  Mi nombre es Glenn.” (“Hello, Arroz. My name is Glenn”). The kitchen staff could not stifle their chuckles.  You see, Glenn thought he had asked, “What is your name”, while “Arroz” thought he had said, “What is this food”.  Understandably she had replied, “Arroz” – the Spanish word for rice. Since “Glenn” is an uncommon name here and difficult for the Nicaraguans to understand, Glenn has decided to introduce himself by his middle name, William (or Guillermo in Spanish).  So now these two, Arroz and Guillermo, have become amigos.  And isn’t that the real reason we are here, to build relationships with the Nicaragua people – one person at a time.

Yes, there is sun down here!

by Trish Krider

October 17, 2011

What a surprise!  The sun was shining brightly this morning as we sat to breakfast.  Notice the past tense – “was shining”.  We knew it would be only temporary.  This seems to be how it happens in the rainy season here.  There are occasional moments when the sun peeks out and there are periodic downpours while the rest of the day the clouds threaten.  Yes, we are aware that those of you in Tampa are preparing at this moment for some dousing weather of your own.  Imagine how you would feel if that lasted for an entire “season” or, worse yet, if your house was made of cardboard and plastic and your floors were dirt.  Gives one a reason to pause and be grateful for the blessings in their lives.

Our first order of business today was our Bible lesson at La Estación school.  As we arrived at the school it was obvious that the rain was no deterrent to outdoor activities as the children were involved in a spirited game of soccer in the courtyard.  Our 52 students today were elementary aged and eager to see what we had brought.  Our theme this week, based on Matthew 18:21-22, began with a skit teaching the importance of forgiveness.  Mike and Jim gave an Oscar-winning performance as two friends who learn that there should be no limit to the number of times we are willing to forgive each other.   And Glenn and Steve did a stellar job as stewards of the scenery. 

Our education component always involves doing a craft.  This year we had the children make a “necklace” made from a paper plate on which was written, “Dios Perdóname” – God Forgive Me.  The children’s task was to write their names, color the background, and glue colored macaroni around the perimeter.  We
 worked our assembly line of construction efficiently and had only one little blip when some of the older boys tried to eat the supplies.  You see, our macaroni wasn’t colored because it was flavored with spinach and tomato, but because Debbie had spent hours spray painting it.  In our exuberance to begin the craft we had neglected to tell the translator to make it clear to the children that this macaroni was not, in fact, edible.

Along with the students there were other local children who wandered in, or just peered into the classrooms through the windows. I do use that term “windows” loosely, as there is no glass – just bars.  It allows some air to flow through the school and provides a level of security while the deep overhang keeps the rain outside. Since we were prepared with a limited number of supplies, most could merely watch.  But occasionally one of the children on the inside would pass their snack out to a child on the outside.  You see, this often happens here.  The older children take care of the younger ones, usually putting the youngest children’s needs first.  It is a lesson in caring for our brothers that we could all afford to learn. 

This afternoon we headed out for our first work project at the Special Needs School in León.  We did a Bible lesson in this school last year – the only one in the area that provides education for children with all levels of disability, both physical and mental – but this year we were sent for some physical labor.  It appears that our job this week will be to paint the iron grate doors and the rebar that is used in the “windows”.  Using a smelly, oil based paint and small brushes we set about our task.  Those painting the door soon realized that working from both sides was a mistake.  Rather than speeding up the work, it caused a splatter effect on the person on the other side.  So in teams of two, we worked together on one side of each door before moving, together, to the other side.  And we ended the day looking a lot like a speckled egg.

Those of us who were painting the rebar were under a tree and grateful that the rain had stopped – at least for a while – and that the clouds provided some shade. We worked along with our translator, Mario, practicing our Spanish conversational skills and sharing stories of our families back home.  We had a schedule to keep and, once again, God was good with the timing of the cloudbursts as we had almost completed our goal of a dozen bars before the rain began.  It lasted long enough for us to clean our hands of the odorous black paint and cleared in time for us to walk to the bus without getting wet.

We learned today another lesson on how the people here make do with what they have.  For our tedious chore we were provided paint brushes, but in order to provide each of us with a small supply of paint, they had taken plastic soda bottles (with the cap on) and cut them in half horizontally.  It filled the bill, was totally disposable, and the only challenge was to be cautious if you had the bottle-neck end and wanted to put it down.  The other clever improvisation was the drop cloths.  Those who painted the bars did so over an old concrete slab and there was no consideration to avoid dripping.  However, this was not acceptable for those who were painting the doors.  With no drop cloths available, they spread a layer of dirt under the door.  The dirt would absorb the paint and, once the painting was done, the dirt was just swept away.

For those of you who have been here before you would be surprised at how cool it is in the rainy season.  In the evenings it is so cool in the rocking chairs that some nights we choose to sit near the kitchen where there is no breeze and it is slightly warmer.  It also seems to keep the bug population at bay which is a great blessing.  And sleeping is a joy – no need for the fans unless one wants to drown out a noisy sleeper!  The one drawback, however, of the cooler weather is that since we do not arrive back at the house drenched in sweat, a cold shower does not feel refreshing, it just feels, well… COLD!

Tonight we are putting on a light jacket and sitting in the rocking chairs.  We have not yet spent an evening playing games, but rather engaged in deep conversations.  I do not know if games are on the agenda for this evening, but if not, the week is still young.