What did you DO when you were down there? August 12, 2008

I’ve heard from many others, that some have difficulty understanding why we would travel all the way to Nicaragua, and not really DO anything?  What did you build?  What did you repair?  What did you DO when you were down there.

This was a relational trip.  There are several churches who come to Casa Bernabe orphanage and DO.  Our trip was not about doing, but about being.  Being a friend, a smile, a hug, a laugh to the children who live there 24/7. 

Here’s some of what we “did”:

hands to hold

braiding hair

Being a pillow on the bus

bunny ears make smiles

someone to hold onto

a back to "piggy back" on

a guinea pig to "pin"

a buddy on the bus

haircuts to give

hands to hold

and more hands to hold

What did we do?  That’s what we did.  In the end, it’s our prayer, that maybe these kids will remember us more for this, than for the line we painted on the orphanage, or the shower curtains we hung, or the floors we mopped.  That’s my prayer anyway.

You’re right August 12, 2008

Thank you, Roz, LG, others … for nagging me to post more.  I do have more to “unload” from my brain.  While I think about this trip, these kids, daily, I should write more. 

I recently changed the ‘wallpaper’ on my computer, so that when I turn it on, I see this:

Where the little ones sleep

This is the room where the youngest kids sleep at Casa Bernabe orphanage.  I had mixed feelings when I was in there.  It was dim and somewhat cavernous.  It’s not the kind of ‘bedroom’ we create for our little ones.  Yes there were some “Winnie-The-Pooh’s” on the wall, but there was an emptiness too.  These littles ones didn’t have a mom or dad to tuck them into bed, to read them stories.  There was not “nets” of stuffed animals, or comforters with Buz Lightyear or Wall-E, or whatever is the new, cool thing to put in your kids’ room.  No shelves full of books. No dressers filled to the brim with outfits to choose. 

Yet, there was love.  Love from the beautiful staff members who dedicated themselves to caring (not just taking care OF, but CARING) for these kids.  Love of the kids for each other.  Smiles about their beds and their bunkmates. 

Then, there was this  little boy,  Leonard, who was new to the orphanage .

Leonard, plays

Leonard was still figuring out his place here at the orphanage.  He was very quiet.  Very slow to warm to others.  While the other young ones often ran up and put their hand in your hand, Leonard would very quietly come up behind you, and sit down quietly, seeming just wanting to be in the company of another human.  Leonard sat beside me as I painted the blue line along the bottom of the orphanage’s front wall.  (The big kids were in school when we did work projects.)  Leonard said nothing, just played with a little stuffed cow, something like you’d get in a Happy Meal at McDonalds.  Eventually, he became comfortable enough to talk out loud, to himself, about his cow-adventures.  At one point, I took of the kerchief I had tied to my head, tied it around the neck of his cow, and said, “Superman!” while flying the cow through the air.  Leonard gave a meek smile:

eventually, a smile

Leonard stayed by my side for a long while. Flying his cow through the air, saying quietly, “Superman!” He got comfortable with me snapping a photo or two, and then I turned the camera over to him.  He was intrigued by a pattern on my leg, caused by sitting on the ground for a lengthy period of time, apparently my sneaker pressed to my calf.  And he took this photo:

intriguing, to Leonard

 

He showed me the photo and we managed to somehow communicate about where this weird pattern had come from.  Soon, Leonard picked up a paint brush and painted beside me, painting a simple blue line along the wall bottom.  He would smile as he painted a bit and I said, “Bueno, Leonard, bueno!!” 

It’s difficult to comprehend that this kind of interaction is significant.  In our own children’s minds, would they ever remember a time when they painted and some said, “Good!” ??  Yet God had put us in this place, at this particular time, with this particular child  We don’t know what Leonard’s daily life was like, nor whether he felt pride or ??? in the few moments we spent together, playing “Superman” and taking photos and painting. 

I don’t want to overthink it, but just ask that little Leonard had a moment where he felt no fear …. just peace, quiet, acceptance, and maybe even a little love.  This little boy, for one reason or another, was now separated from his parents, his family, and just searched for a quiet place where he was safe and accepted. 

How many years will Leonard be at CB?  Ten? 

When I see the young men and women who had spent most of their lives at CB, these kids were OPEN, and joyous, and confident, and had a bond with the other kids as well as the staff at CB.  I hope when I return to CB, hopefully next year, I’ll see a Leonard who IS one of those kids who puts his hand in yours, who proudly shows you his bunk bed and tells you who sleeps above him.  I hope to see HOPE in Leonard’s eyes.

- Laura

Sharing July 31, 2008

On Wednesday night, I had the pleasure of meeting up with two awesome mission team members to chat and share photos.  Jan is SOOoooo lucky to be receiving emails from her bud Rebecca down at CB, and I am envious.  (Jan, maybe we can get word through Rebecca to tell Tony and maybe even Stanley to write!!!)  And our quietest member of the team, Glenn, made it!  (Mega bonus points for that Glenn!)  Glenn is a.lm.o.s.t.  back to health.  It was so enjoyable to share about our trip and our feelings afterwards.  I think we all agreed that it’s the kids at La Chureca that is eating at our hearts the most.  We were so blessed to be able to have so many opportunities to hang out  with and get to know the kids of CB (and it just kills me to pull up various websites when you google “Casa Bernabe” and see all those faces of kids we now know!!).  The funding from ORPHANetwork and Spring Branch Community Church and other resources is SO well spent.  While by American standards there is so much that we see needs work and more resources, these kids are very well loved, well cared for, and are being raised in a safe and faith-guided atmosphere.  The staff that accomplishes this are true heroes.

Today I also volunteered in the ORPHANetwork office here in V.B., and I’m so glad to say that they want me to come back.  I hope to establish a regular schedule of time spent there.  Today I spent the morning chatting with Anne and talking about where they could use some help.  Then wrote out some thank-you cards that are sent to donors … who ARE ORPHANetwork.  I can tell I’m going to love this.

I have so many more photos and stories to share with you that I don’t even know how to get it all down.  But, here’s some of the fun we had with the kids at Nueve Vida refugee camp.

When we entered, the kids were all waiting for us under a covered patio, and through loud speakers and with terrific singers up front, they greeted us with songs.  Joe instructed us as we approached, “Just grab a kid, put them on your lap, and sit in their chair.”  And so, we did.  We were serenaded with many lively, happy songs, that we couldn’t understand, but we could clap along and enjoy.

Nueve Vida: grab a kid, sit in their chair and put them on your lap!

We played a few games with the kids including sac races and a balloon game (rules unknown to me) but several of the kids in the chairs already had various  color balloons tied to their waists. 

Ready for balloon battles!

The game had something to do with being the last balloon ‘standing’ and the battle began.  John, who is about 6 foot 7 inches or something crazy like that, taunted everyone with his extreme advantage.  But some talented soul managed to get him out.

Is this fair??? Picking on poor Lee.

Soon, it was down to Stephen, our terrific 19 yr old team member and a brave young man from Nueve Vida. 

Oh ... and Stephen uses his height advantage too

But then the red balloon is within reach

One big effort and ...

As the kids cheered like mad for their friend, it came to an exciting end … and while Stephen was not the victor, he was our hero …. (you guessed it …. he was not going to let that boy lose …. way to go Stephen).

The Nueve Vida team wins!!!!

We then went on to split the kids up … girls in one patio and boys in the other and out came the pinatas! 

That's right, a Strawberry Shortcake pinata

Just like back home, all us Moms had our eyes half covered, waiting for someone to be clobbered with the stick. 

Not sure what the boys' was ??

 And just like back home, when the pinata was split open, it was pure mayhem!

No broken skulls, thank God!

I have so many photos of the gorgeous kids here, and apologize that it’s taking me so long to tell all there is to tell and upload more photos.  Let’s leave it here tonight, thinking of these kids enjoying what many of our own have enjoyed at countless kid parties. 

God Bless the kids and families and PASTOR and staff of Nueve Vida!!!

Girls’ night July 29, 2008

On Wednesday evening, Joe and the men took the boys out to the Managua soccer field and “let” the CB boys whup their butts. Then they went out for pizza, which is a BIG DEAL with the CB kids.  We’ve heard that each of the CB boys downed about 5 pieces of pizza each … many adding ketchup to their slices.  ????

Us “girls” had “Girls’ Night”  … we fed them dinner (it was a fish and potatoes concoction over pasta … that didn’t go so well but we appreciated the kitchen staff’s efforts anyway).  I am sorry to say that I had this “bright” idea to introduce the girls to FLOATS .. vanilla ice cream with various soda options poured over it.  Most of them cringed as we poured the coke or orange soda over their ice cream, and didn’t ask for seconds, but many came back for ice cream, and coke … separate please.  Thankfully, Jody pushed for cake too, and we had enough money to buy some cakes as well.

At dinner, We introduced ourselves, and the CB girls and staff  introduced themselves and the girls told us their career aspirations.  We played a few very ridiculous games, including blindfolding a girl and having her apply makeup to us gringos.  (Who the heck thought of this????)

Ambre and Eren ... America's Next Top Models (not)

Kira's enhanced lips

We played a “knot game” … not worth explaining but such fun to watch:

the beautiful beginnings of the "knot"

Gillian performed her magic braiding hair, and Biritt and others gave amazing foot massages and pedicures.  Others painted nails. 

braids are beautiful, and in high demand

Biritt and Peggy work their magic on tired feet.

Eren and I taught Marta (a gal who watches over the older girls) as well as her daughter and some other crafty-minded girls how to crochet rag rugs using torn up sheets or ANY fabric.  For those of us without daughters, it was especially endearing to pass on a craft from previous women in our lives.  (Mucho gracias to all those who donated sheets and those on our team who spent some time cutting and tearing the sheets to make “yarn-balls”, all ready for the CB gals to work with.)

I did manage to also squeeze in, at the last moment, a manicure … well, to paint the nails of one of the CB girls.  Later, as we walked the girls back to their dorm in the dark, that young lady came up to me and walked with her arm tightly wrapped around my waist.  I hung on to her too, hoping she new how much I cared about her.

As one without daughters, it was a beautiful girls’ evening.  I hope these girls and women felt special and adored and pampered.  We honor them and love them, and hope that these emotions and caring thoughts stay with them for a long time.

Back to Day 1 and meeting the kids … July 25, 2008

So I thought I’d just briefly go back to the day we arrived, and when we first met the kids of CB (Casa Bernabe).

When we flew in, we were picked up by Ervin, our astounding bus driver and his beautiful, cheerful bus:

Ervin's magic bus

 

We board Ervin's bus

 

No A/C, windows did open though and we got plenty of opportunities to see the extensive poverty of Managua through these windows.  As we began our drive from the airport to CB, Ervin did blast a great ’70′s song … “Eye of the Tiger!”  (Coincidentally … which means not a coincidence but just a little smile/joke from God … that’s the first song I ever HEARD at Spring Branch Community Church.  We walked in our first time, sat in the balcony, and the lights came up and there were silouettes of men with mega-long frizzy/curly hair (wigs), banging out “Eye of the Tiger.”  Ryan turned to me and said, “Ma … are you sure we’re in the right place?  I don’t think this is church.” It turns out, they were doing theme weeks in the music at church and we arrived in the 70′s.)

Now, whenever I hear “Eye of the Tiger” I start looking around for evidence of God’s hand.

So, we bump along the diesel (or other fuel?) smelling, trash-filled, beeping, honking, hectic streets of Managua and finally arrive at the gates (with guards) of Casa Bernabe orphanage.  Before we get off, our trip leader John gives us some last minute critical info:  “The toilet paper is NEVER to be flushed down the toilet.  It goes in the waste basket next to the toilet.  If you want to have use of your toilet during the next week, you will not put toilet paper into your toilet. In fact, we want you to do whatever you can to conserve water.  We guys have a saying, ‘If it’s yellow, let it mellow.  If it’s brown, flush it down.’”

(Oh Lord … what have we gotten ourselves into.)

Oh yeah … no one gave us the memo about there only being COLD water too … no hot showers for a week.

 I guess we’re kinda lucky that this mission team isn’t any bigger, because each “dorm room” has four bunk beds … that’s eight women per room and ONE bathroom.  Great.  Thankfully, our team isn’t so big and our room has just four women in the one room.

My room, shared with Gillian, Tara and Leigh!

To be honest, our accomodations are terrific.  We have comfortable (bunk) beds, and double sinks in the bathroom and at least we DO have a shower, and A/C !!!!  (I’m fairly certain there’s only about a dozen air conditioning units in the entire city of Managua and 8 of them are right here in the mission teams’ dorm building.

There’s two long, thin buildings which contain four dorm rooms (each can hold eight people in four bunkbeds), and the coolest thing is that they are connected by this HUGE “porch” … a covered patio with (Rubbermaid-style) outdoor tables and chairs for eating all our meals, four great rocking chairs, and a sofa and two chairs that were sunroom-looking type furniture.  No walls, no windows, no screens .. but lots of fresh air, occasionally a visiting hungry dog or kitten, and the ever-present flies which became less and less noticeable as the week went on.  (Oh, the bugs did decided to have a grand finale day and were really ‘in our faces’ on the last day before we left.)

To be honest, the porch area is where you wanted to be.  There’s was almost always a half dozen folks (or more) from the team out there, and if you sat down and joined their conversation you were sure to be laughing within 10 minutes.  (I think Joe prescreened this team to have folks with terrific senses of humor and insight … what a great bunch of folks, and how the heck did *I* get in????)

Often, one or a couple of us grabbed our bibles and headed off to the end of one table to read quietly, look for guidance, take notes, write in journals. 

Occasionally, you’d see one of our team members standing off to the edge of the patio, looking out onto the CB property, and nearly every time, within a few moments, another member of the team walked over, threw their arm around their shoulder, and asked, “How ya doin’??  Everything okay?”  (Don’t you wish everyday life was like that … you showed the slightest sign of stress or concern, and within minutes someone is checking on you, asking if you are okay?)

Here’s some photos of the mission team buildings, porch area, view of the building where the CB pig lived across from us, etc. -

the great new bldgs where the team stayed

The Gals' side. Rm #1 was mine along w/ 3 other gals

So, we settle our stuff into our dorm rooms, have dinner (rice w/ corn, chicken, salad, and deep fried platains [sp?] I think … good!).  Then we gather and prepare for the kids to come over for our first meet and greet.  Joe gives us the low down on the upcoming insanity, and we plan for some games such as “Cowboy, Gorilla, Kung Fu” which is a more physical, insane version of “Paper, Scissors, Rocks” and NO … Joe had no idea who beat what … does a Cowboy beat a Gorilla? or does the Kung Fu beat a Cowboy?”  Yeah … it’s called “fly by the seat of Joe’s pants.”

(In the end, we just went alphabetical … Cowboy beats Gorilla which beats Kung Fu which beats Cowboy.  The end.  If we talk about it too much, try to find some logic in this goofy game, we’ll be arguing all night.)

I forgot the other games we played … but believe me, they were just as screwy.  Oh yeah … one was ‘how man clothespins can you pinch on a gringo’s face’.  Thanks for the nice NEW clothespins, Joe … with nice new (tight) springs and a good strong grip.  Those were great. (uber-ouch)

So, we wait and wait for the kids to arrive.

Then finally, two boys show up … one walks by and pats me on the shoulder in a greeting.  I’m kind of numb at this moment.  Another younger boy hides behind a bush, but slowly emerges when we smile and tease and joke and wave enough.  (Either that, or he spotted Joe, whom they all adore … a/k/a “Pepe”.)

Then more come and more come, and I feel like, what do I do??  Joe says just jump right in, talk, “high five”, do anything … just engage.  And that’s what Joe does .. he charges kids, tackles them, makes faces and crazy sounds.  The rest of us seem to slowly try to say “Hola” and see if we can remember how to say “My name is ….” and “What’s your name …”

The games begin, with the help of our translators who somehow seem to make “Cowboy, Gorilla, Kung Fu” sound like something normal and the kids willingly cooperate.

(I got shy.)

So, I walked over to a table of some older girls who were not playing and decided that this must be the wall-flower section … just where I belong.  (I was wrong.)  I asked the one girl why she wasn’t playing and she said, in English, that she was sick.  My hand immediately flew to her forehead.  (Later thought … Wow … what a “momma” thing to do.”)  The other young lady had crutches, and I later found out had a broken foot … from playing soccer (YOU GO GIRL!).

I decided to go ahead and make a fool of myself.  I sat down with them, and talked to them in my enchanting combo language of English-German-French-Spanglish.  (Lovely.)  I brought out my journal and drew pictures where words got stuck.  Thankfully, I also had my camera which is the secret connection between the gringos and the kids.  All the kids love to look through your photos and take pictures of themselves and their friends.  My two new “friends”, Jorlene and Eveling, were 18 and 17 respectively.  (I later realized, they really were far too cool for our goofy games.)  Jorlene took dozens of photos of not only herself, but her many friends, and wrote down her friends’ names in my journal.  I tried to keep up the conversation, and like a complete idiot, asked her over and over (in Spanish) “How do you say (that) in SPAIN?” (Duh.)  She’s correct me.  “In Espanol! (Spanish!) Not in Espana (Spain)!”  Yeah .. she laughed at my lack of brains a few times, but conversation is conversation.  It turns out that both Eveling and Jorlene spoke pretty decent English, but I think they rather enjoyed watching me struggle with Spanish, so I hope I didn’t mutter anything that I didn’t want them to really understand … because I’m sure they did!

Jorlene (17)

 

Eveling (18)

When the team broke out the ice cream, I offered to bring the girls some (Eveling “no”, Jorlene “Yes, chocolate”) some ice cream.  This became the first of many times I tried to bring Jorlene chocolate ice cream and came back a failure … bringing something else instead, because the chocolate was gone.  (Very popular amongst the kids, chocolate is … and it’s gone fast!)

To be honest, I wasn’t sure what the girls thought of me, this redheaded 100 year old gringo with NO Spanish skills.  But I hung in there, hoping God had sent me to the right table.

Let me jump to the next day, because later, I felt okay about all this.  The next day we took all the kids to the beach.  After some time in the water, playing with some of the younger boys, I retreated to the covered patio area because I was petrified of the close-to-the-equator sun of Nicaragua and of a painful sunburn (despite my repeated application of sunscreen).  At one point, I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I sat on a bench and broke out my knitting.  About 5 minutes  later, I see Jorlene hobble over on her crutches asking, “Can I help you?”  Jorlene knew how to knit!  So, I turned over my knitting, and sat with her, mostly quietly, sometimes with a question or two, enjoying her company and feeling thankful that she had engaged me (when the night before, I wondered if maybe she was really wishing I’d go away.) 

Jorlene knits with me

After a while, some little kids jumped into the nearby hammocks, and I was soon employed as ‘official-hammock-swinger.’ Eventually, I managed to coax Jorleneto get into one so I could swing her;  then Eveling into the other, and spent a good 45 minutes swinging then back and forth, calling them “Queen Jorlene” and “Queen Eveling” in Spanish.  We talked and joked about boys and I found out that Jorlene has an ”American boyfriend” whom I quickly figured out was really a “computer boyfriend” (Facebook) who lives in Virginia, and teased her mercilessly about this. Also found out she adores Orlando Bloom (and then called her “Mrs. Bloom”). After lots of giggles and laughs, Jorlene eventually relaxed, closed her eyes, and began to quietly sing a song. 

(Thank you, God.)

Had anyone ever rocked these girls as a child?  When was the last time that anyone had just pampered them?  Eveling, I knew, had been at the orphanage for 10 years.  I forget how long Jorlene had been there but it was 6 or 8 years too.  It felt good to connect with them, to smile and tease about boys, to swing them in their hammocks until they relaxed.  I won’t forget this day either.

 

 

a simple gift July 24, 2008

On Saturday, our first full day in Nicaragua and first full day hanging out with the kids, we went to a beach.  It was a day of jumping “over” waves, and spitting out salty salty water, and swinging kids in hammocks (even put one to sleep!), and knitting with Jolene and lunch at picnic tables …

… and a gift.  Stanley gave me this piece of a sanddollar … which is now proudly hanging from my neck.  A beautiful way to remember a beautiful day.

a gift from Stanley

“From your song” July 24, 2008

Stanley took my journal during one of our bus trips, and doodled.  He was concerned when he made some mistakes … and I thought to myself, I need to show him that doodle game that Nathan and Ryan and I play, where we turn “mistakes” into “art”.  I smiled at Stanley and gave him back one of his FAVORITE phrases … “Don’t worrrryyyy…..” 

Stanley started on the next page, and I must have gotten caught up in something else for a moment, because a few moments later, he was handing me back the journal, open to his drawing and a note:

Stanley's note

Yes, Stanley … you are my song, and I love you.

 

An excerpt from an email I sent 7/13 July 24, 2008

As I sat here trying to unscramble all the thoughts in my head from my trip to Nicaragua, I decided to re-read an email I sent to a dear friend on 7/13.  Here’s an excerpt.  I wanted to post it here because as I sat on that picnic bench at the orphanage in Nicaragua, at sweet Caroline’s laptop, I was pouring out my pure feelings of the moment.  So how better to recapture that, then to post it right here:

“It’s Tuesday morning here … about 9:15 a.m.  I’m sitting on a picnic bench out in between some buildings which seems to be the only place where we get internet access.  It’s actually lovely.  The birds make crazy, beautiful sounds down here.  Dogs run wild (skittish, but hungry) the orphanage’s two horses are free, chickens, a pig. 
The children are more beautiful and more full of joy than I can ever EVER explain.  I have a few “sons” here already.  One boy, Stanley, calls me “mom” and wants me to give him a haircut before I leave because I showed him Nathan and Ryan’s photos and told him I cut their hair.  (I will definitely cut his hair before I leave!!!  I promised.)
We went to Managua’s dump yesterday, where the 1500 or so people live. As we drove in, the smell was horrendous … there were men huffing glue and looking horribly scary.  THere were cattle and dogs and men all fighting for the same food.  The houses were completely shacks made of pieces of corrugated metal.
THEN …. we arrived to the area where the kids were waiting for us and after that, I was SURE I was in HEAVEN.  Beautiful, scared children who were being rewarded for doing well in school (Yes, there’s a school INSIDE the dump) and we were taking them to a restaurant in town called “Tip Top” … like a KFC with a playland.  I went to a little boy who was in the back, with his hands on his hips, looking a bit afraid.  He was my buddy the entire rest of the afternoon.  Sat with me on the bus.  At with me at Tip Top.  I know I met an angel that day.

It’s such a long long long and lovely story … next to the days when my sons were born, yesterday, July 13,2008 was the happiest, most wonderful, most BLESSED day of my life.  I got to walk with Jesus …

Your eyes are in trouble … because I have so much to write … it’s likely to fill a novel.”

I can almost feel the same feeling of joy that I felt in my heart when I was typing that email.  I could still see Santiago’s sweet face and pure smile from that day at La Chureca and Tip Top restaurant.  I want to do this over and over again.  I don’t know how much of an impact that afternoon had on Santiago, but more than anything, I hope that he saves and often looks at that drawing I made for him.  The one that had his “portrait” on it, and the words, “Jesus loves you, Santiago.”  I want that beautiful child to know God’s love, to know he is valued and beautiful and worthy of all that God offers.

Next week, there’s a team of high schoolers from my church going down to Nicaragua.  I don’t know if they will go to La Chureca or not.  I’ve thought about sending down some photos of Santiago with one of the kids, ask them if they go to La Chureca to see if they can find Santiago, give him the photos I took, and perhaps give him a beautiful wooden cross I bought, made from name “Jesus”.  But, then I think, maybe I should let the high school kids experience La Chureca and the kids on their own, with theor own discoveries and their own angels. 

I kept a journal (or tried to) while in Nicaragua.  It’s funny …  it started out all pristine and new, but over the course of the trip, it got blue paint on it from our painting adventures at the main orphanage building (when you see that beautiful blue stripe along the bottom of the building, that was me!  … or part of it was me anyway!).  Eventually, the top corners of the pages got some mystery spill on it, so it looks a bit, well, “traveled” -

My "Nica" Journal

On the day that we went to La Chureca, and I found my new friend Santiago, we spent some time with crayons and smiles, waiting for the food to come.  I pulled out my journal, and traced my hand on a page, and then indicated for me to trace Santiago’s hand.  Instead of putting his hand on the other page, the clean one, he placed it on my hand, and I then traced his hand on mine.  I wouldn’t part with this beautiful page for the world: 

Hands, at Tip Top

Would you say a prayer with me now?

“Dear God … let Santiago remember tonight… that you love him, and Jesus loves him, and he’s a beautiful child of Yours. Please bless him and his family.  Amen.”

More on Stanley July 22, 2008

There’s another piece to Stanley’s story that I haven’t yet told.

On Sunday, 7/13, our mission team and the kids from Casa Bernabe loaded onto 2 buses and drove into a church in Managua.  (I was mistaken when I said, prior to the trip, that they held services at the orphanage.)  I rode to church with Stanley, and he told me that usually his grandmother came to church to see him.  I asked if his mother ever came and he said no.  He hadn’t seen her in a very long time .. maybe 9 months.  Stan told me he ‘d introduce me to his grandmom.

Once our bus arrived, we milled around outside for a while, and suddenly Stanley took off towards a taxi where a woman and boy were coming out.  He hugged her, and Angelo hugged her.  This woman looked far too young to be Stanley and Angelo’s mom.  I stayed off to the side with some gals from the mission team, watching.  Then, I saw Stanley wave for me to come over.  (My heart was in my throat.)

I walked over and Stanley said, “Laura, this is my Mom.”  His Mom and I hugged, and I was pleased to find out that she too spoke pretty good English.  I told her that Stanley was a very special and bright boy, and that I’d enjoyed getting to know him and his nutty humor.  We talked about Angelo and his humor and obvious intelligence too.

His mom introduced me to another brother that she had brought, one who was not placed at the orphanage.  I noticed that Stanley and Angelo seemed a bit uncomfortable around that brother and didn’t really hug him at all.  She also has two daughters who were not with her. Here’s a photo I took of their family:

null

 

After a bit, I left them alone, and while Angelo continued to hang onto his Mom, Stanley wasn’t nearly as affectionate.  We began to file into the church, and I watched to see where Stanley and his family sat, but never saw them enter.  Another gal on our team was pretty sure she’d seen them walk in the opposite direction of the church, and I sat through the whole service worrying.

After the service, I looked and looked, and finally went onto the bus to see if Stanley was there, and there he was, at the very back of the bus.  I asked if he and his Mom and brothers had gone into the church, and he said that they did.  (I am not really sure if this was true or not.)  Stan didn’t seem like himself … quite a bit more reserved.  I did worry about how this visit with his mom was affecting him.

I later asked the director of the orphanage a bit about Stanley’s mom, and was told that she’s a very bad influence on the boys, and was overly stern with them.  (I would have asked more, found out more, but the orphanage director was always being pulled in a million different directions.)

I tried to engage Stanley in a conversation about seeing his mom another day, asking if he was surprised to see her (“yes”) and how he felt about it (“good”), but he clearly wasn’t ready to open up.

All I could do was pray for Stanley and Angelo and his Mom and siblings … pray that God would have his healing hand on them.

I had also asked the orphanage director what I say to Stanley about his Mom, since his Mom isn’t a positive thing in his life, and she said I can and should encourage Stanley to love his Mother despite her problems and their family difficulties, and pray for her to find God and find a better life.  I did talk to Stanley about that, and shared with Stanley that I too had had parents that made bad decisions and made some terrible mistakes, that caused them to NOT be a part of my life as well.  I shared that with God as your Father, you can find a whole, complete, and healthy life.

The mission team was really blown away by the fact that I’d been able to meet Stanley’s mom.  No one else on our team met ‘their kid’s’ mom during the trip. 

I’m rather a jumbled mess about it.  I met this woman who was pleasant and showing affection to her boys.  Yet i felt some negative thoughts about her for the pain I know she had caused Stanley and Angelo … two boys whom I’d come to care for.  (Stanley told me he never saw his dad.)

I will pray for her, for Stanley and Angelo, for Stanley’s brothers and sisters.  I hope you do too.

Stanley July 21, 2008

Stanley has a very special place in my heart.  He’s a 14 yr old boy that is so endearing, friendly and sweet.  And a bonus … pretty darned good English!  I bet if we pooled our photos together, the team would have dozens of photos of Stanley hugging folks.  A real doll.

I got to know Stanley during a bus trip from the beach with the kids.  He’s a big teaser (which makes me think so much about my own sons), and has some phrases you’ll hear come out of him over and over again:

“It’s okay ……”

“Don’t worry ….”      and             ”Don’t worry …. be happy.”

“I’m just joking …….”

His little brother Angelo is a character too, FULL of energy and silly and the same teasing/laughing eyes.  Angelo loves to mess with you.  As Joe would describe these boys, they are real “stinkers.”

Stanley, or “Stan-The-Man” as he was known amongst the team, is a super-bright boy.  Behind his gorgeous eyes and smile, you could tell he was holding things in.  Behind his jokes and teasing, you knew there was pain.  But every moment you were with Stan, you were smiling and laughing.

When I showed Stanley the photos of my boys, we somehow got into a conversation about hair, and I mentioned that I cut Nathan and Ryan’s hair, and have since they were babies.  Stanley immediately asked me if I would cut his hair.  Of course, my answer was sure!  (I said I needed to get permission, but it’s funny how later you do finally realize that these kids don’t have parents and the orphanage staff don’t expect you to ask permission to do things like cut the kids’ hair.)  I made sure I fulfilled that promise before I left.

The day before haircut day, I got the word through our translator that there were about 8 boys who wanted their hair cut!  I rounded up some tools from other team members, and headed out to the “internet cafe” area to set up shop!

Stan-the-Man was first, of course, and I decided to play a little joke on my jokester.  When I got him in the chair, I asked if he was ready, and pulled out (from a sheet on the ground) a machete that Nate had asked me to bring back from Nicaragua.  I said, “Okay, Stan … here we go.”

 

That got a chuckle out of him, and I got busy cutting his hair.  Well, first he needed his hair shampooed because Stan was a Dapper-Dan man.  Okay, maybe not Dapper Dan, but some sort of gel or hair product. 

When I finished Stanley, he served as my interpreter for all the other boys.  There were boys with gorgeous long curls and pin straight hair and also, “Mr. Cool” … a boy who always had his hair gelled and slicked back, wore his aviator glasses, and just had an all around cool persona.  I was petrified to do his hair, because I knew he cared a lot about his appearance.  At first Mr. Cool (through Stanley) asked me to clipper down the side of his head pretty short, but leave the top alone.  But, as the cut proceeded, another boy told him how it looked and “Mr. Cool” informed me that it was okay to take the top down.

The hardest part for me was that he requested side burns that went into a point, and I’m afraid I probably got a “C” in that part of the cut.

(Side note, later that evening, at a ‘party’ I saw Mr. Cool wearing a baseball cap and said to him, “Oh no …. the haircut is  bad????”  He said, “No! No!  I like!”  I said, “Sure, sure … you’re just trying to make me feel better.”  Then further into the evening, when we took the kids to watch the older boys play soccer, Mr. Cool did not have a baseball cap on.  He found me and said, “Laura …. see!  (pointing to his head with no hat) …. I like!  I like!”  with a big ole’ smile on his face.  I’m feeling better about it … and hope that he really does like his cut.)

The last boy, a handsome devil with gorgeous hair got into my chair, and through Stanley informed me he wanted to be BALD.  I said “No!  I can’t do that to you!!!”  He went through the clipper guards and pulled out the smallest guard, saying “Numero uno!”  He wanted as much of his hair off as I could.  First of all, I’ve never made anyone bald.  Secondly, I just felt like I’d get in some sort of trouble with the staff.  (Thirdly, it was possible that Stanley was playing a game using his translation … he joked all the time!)

As I was cutting this boy’s hair using the #3 guard, a woman walked up to us, and I was told it was the boy’s mother.  At the time, all I could think about was, “Lord, hope I’m not in trouble for cutting off so much of his hair.”  and “Maybe she works at the orphanage.”  The boy babbled at his Mom, and through Stanley found out he was telling his Mom to tell me it was okay to shave him bald.

“Bald!  Bald” he kept saying.  In the end, I took his hair as short as I could without shaving him, using the #1 clipper guard.  As his hair was coming off, the boy said, “Oh …. the air … it feels so good.”   He was thrilled with his stubbly head.  Here’s before and after photos:

pre-haircut

 

after ... he was thrilled, I was nervous

What can I say ….. I gave the boy what he wanted, and it is pretty darned hot down there!

So, I cut all the boys’ hair (including Angelo’s hair, Stan’s little brother), and trimmed the bangs on a few girls, felt like I had sweated out gallons in that heat, and came away with a chest that looked like Tom Selleck’s … plastered with hair from all the boys.  After a quick shower (cold of course … no warm water there), I joined the rest of the team and the kids at our farewell party, and looked around the room to see which heads had the “Laura touch”.  Boy after boy came up to me to say “gracias”, and it felt so cool to share something that I do for my own sons.

Me and Stan ...post haircut (pre-shower!)

One more thing about my boy Stan.  I talked a bit about Stan with the orphanage director, and she told me about Stan’s mom a bit (“a bad influence, way to stern with the boys”) and she told me that while Stan is very bright, he doesn’t work as hard as he could at school.  At the end of the week, (after watching Stanley be enthralled with all music-listening devices) I bought Stanley an MP3 player at the Managua market.  Through Moises and the woman who ran the orphanage, we arranged to tell Stanley that he could have the MP3 player ONCE he raised his grades (to a goal that was set by Moises.)  I told Stan, and his eyes grew huge.  He told me his average was an 84.  But, the next day, Stan asked me to walk him to school, and was thrilled to find out that the new averages had just been posted, and his average had gone up to an 89!! (I also got to meet Stan’s teacher, and told her that I’d been talking to Stan about working harder at school.  She was quite pleased.)  Moises had decided that Stan could have the MP3 player when his average reached 90.  So Stan-The-Man was very close.  I also met Stan that day to walk him home from school, and he greeted me with a huge hug. 

Later than evening, Stan asked if he could listen to his MP3 player, but I told him that he had to do the workfirst.  First hard work, then come the rewards.  (Some team members had helped with downloading music to the MP3 player for me.)  Stan wasn’t so happy about that, but isn’t that what a parent needs to do?  We don’t ‘give in’ to the big brown puppy eyes.  We tell our kids, work hard and THEN you’ll be rewarded.  NOT the rewards first.

The evening we last saw the boys, Stan walked to the mission team’s house, and brought me a letter.  In it he wrote:

For my Mama

(In Spanish) Hola Laura.  How are you? I hope you had a good time. I love you very much and I will always wait for you.  I love you very much. Thank you for the MP3 player.   I will take care of it very much. With all my heart and all my strength.

(In English) I love you so much and I will miss you so much with all my heart.