Every page begins with You

I have had a terrible dearth come upon my blog. I don't know if I'm ready to catch up on everything but I didn't want that whiny lesserthan post at the top of the page anymore. (I am effectively convinced of social work again. It's okay if I am not as quick or bright as other people, because I can be willing to learn.) There will be a few other new ones below, they are little fledglings not fully formed but I will let them fly anyway.

There's a Catholic picture that I just love that has Christ placing his hand on his heart (it is probably el sagrado corazon sticking grotesquely to the outside of his chest, but luckily we can't see it because of His Hand), and from his heart are glowing pink and blue lights. Every time I am out somewhere and I see a store of idolos or a stand of pictures at a feria, I have to stop and check if they have this image. Isai always tells me when he sees it somewhere, "They have your picture for 30 pesos at the mercado." I have three of these cuadros in my little room right now and every time I look at them I think of "glory streams from thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace." The lights also remind me of lightsabers, which makes me feel protected. "Not peace but a sword." But really, at this time, just peace.


Today was the first grupo de adolescentes I have attended since early December and oh the glory to see the kids come running in! "Ay maestra, ya regresaste!" The directoras of TRACA left me to run the group today and we did a New Years activity; we folded a piece of paper in half and on one side drew a trunk, on the other side a suitcase. In the trunk we drew and listed the things that we wanted to lock up and leave behind from the old year, the experiences, memories, and behaviors that caused us pain. The suitcase we filled with all the things we wanted to take with us on our journey into the new year. At the end, we cut away our heavy baggage and left it there, the suitcases we took home with us.

This caught my imagination although some of the kids struggled with it. The ones who don't go to school sometimes stumble with artsy expressive projects. Luis needed me to write for him and I told him he could whisper his ideas if he felt shy. He said gruffly, "Write in the trunk that I don't want my parents to fight anymore." He had me write "tristeza, enojo, miedo, contencion" in the trunk. He wanted to fill his suitcase with flowers, love, and friends. He drew stick figures holding hands and flowers in between them. I loved his bashfully delighted look when we clapped for him later. Juan reminded me of my brother Bill when he said he was leaving the video games he played at the public arcade behind: "They are making me waste my life. " (HA!) Winchel might have the most full and cluttered trunk in real life, but the reality is that it's Pandora's box and at 12 there is not much he can shut away. I think he didn't know how to articulate that and that's why he sat silently for so long. Finally he said, "Put in the suitcase that I want to be a mechanic like my brother. And that I want to go to school." I do anything to make Winchel smile because his whole face is starving for it and when it comes it is so filling.

And me? What will I leave behind this year? More broken angels. In my trunk I wrote pride, intimidation, criticism, bad memories which I drew as dead leaves. I drew a sun in my suitcase for the esperanza I want shining brightly before me. 3 hearts for faith, charity, and love. Books and a chain of stick figures for being "bien accompanada" (well accompanied?). I could have drawn a yellow bird, but not yet, not yet, not yet. I feel tonight that I have the vida abundante. I have such a short time yet to love this and let everything sink into my heart before I get lost in a February song. I am going out into the morning sun of the open road with my suitcase. How can I regret this life? It is so beautiful streamed with earth sorrow, longing for home.

When Luis left this afternoon he gave me the besito on the cheek that everyone exchanges in comings and goings but then he threw his arms around me and hugged me, hard. I can't explain. I hope I can make them feel a little of how much I love them.