I Have Finished the Race

In September, my fellow missionary, Laura, came to me with the proposition of starting a running club for the kids with the final goal of running a race at Thanksgiving, a turkey trot if you will. It sounded like a great opportunity for the kids. They could build up their endurance, practice discipline, and grow in confidence by setting and achieving goals. Despite looking at the Finca’s action-packed weekly schedule and finding no time for more activities, we decided that if it was truly a worthwhile exercise, we could make it happen. So we did.

Three days a week from mid-September to November we wrangled up boys and girls from across the Finca to warm-up, stretch, and run longer distances than many of them ever had. We challenged them to keep a pace and continue running even when they felt tired. Joel would proudly declare after a run, “I ran the whole time. I wanted to pick some fruit and eat it, but I didn't. I just kept running.” If you know Joel at all, you undoubtedly will agree that not stopping to eat icacos was quite a triumph. Even when the other kids were totally burnt out, Brayan just kept going and going. Seidy, surprised us with her toughness. Even Jackson had a few days of focused running.

The award for best attendance and perseverance goes to the boys of House 3. Despite the fact that they were shoved out the door by their tias who jump at any opportunity to spend the boys’ surplus energy, they all grew by accepting the challenge to push themselves, and by the end I think they all enjoyed it.

Because of the timing of my departure from the Finca, unfortunately I was unable to participate in the final race, but I did receive this firsthand report from the other Kevin who helped organize race day:

“On December 7th, 2013, a day that will live in infamy, we had the race. When I mapped it out in my head beforehand, I didn't walk the course, and I accidentally made it only about 2.3 miles. By the time we'd figured that out we didn't have enough time to change it and shift all of the stations of people. Juan Carlos took off at a dead sprint at the beginning and never looked back. He beat me by about 40 seconds and was running probably pretty close to six minute miles. I never got close enough to really challenge him... I started out trying to help Laura keep José Manuel supervised (cause she offered to be with him and he took off running too fast for her), which maybe put me about 15 seconds behind after a lap around the Finca before I left the two of them and started to try and catch Juan Carlos, but he just kept putting distance on me instead. I don't think I would've beaten him even either way. Overall, however, it was a grand success. Harry came in third, Daniel in fourth (César opted out of participating), José Isabel in fifth, and Brayan came in about ten steps behind José Isabel (and beat Wilmer). That kid could be a good runner some day. I think in total 19 of the kids and about 7 missionaries ran, and every other kid helped in some capacity, along with Sor Mirna and nearly every tía and house parent.”

Even though my physical strength may no longer reflect it, I still consider myself a runner at heart. So, naturally with all of this running going on during my last days in Honduras, I began to think of my time at the Finca as a race. There were hills and ruts and times when I just felt exhausted and like I ought to slow down or stop. I hoped in those moments of weakness that God would use them for His glory and strengthen me to continue. There were other times where I hit my rhythm and hardly had to think about what I was doing, where it all seemed natural. Through it all there was one goal that I prayed that I could keep my eyes fixed on.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith[…]So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be dislocated but healed.” Hebrews 12: 1-2, 12-13

I looked to the end and like any good runner thought, “I have to leave it all out there on the course.” I didn't want to feel like I could have given more or that I had stopped before the finish line. There was no slowing down, no stopping at this point. While it would be easy to list off regrets and tasks left undone, I can say along with St. Paul:

“As I look to the Day of Christ, you give me cause to boast that I did not run the race in vain or work to no purpose.” Philippians 2:16

“I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7

Although one race has ended for me, there is always another. Thank you all for cheering me on and supporting me and the children of the Finca del Niño in every way possible during this race!

Finca Video

Here is a link to a really cool video that a student from the US made during his visit to the Finca.  It will give you a decent idea of what the Finca is like (kind of):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVb4lPHYAas&feature=youtu.be

Tú Pones Lo Demás

Sept. 1, 2013

As I´ve previously expressed through this blog, sometimes things don´t go quite as one might have planned here at the Finca.  Most recently we´ve had a bit of a personnel change here …and surprise! I’m a kindergarten teacher!  Sara, who has been a missionary here for 2 years, went home in July and recently decided that she will not be returning.  Sara´s father is very sick (please keep him in your prayers), and she decided to be with him and her family.  Sara’s job was living with and caring for our 3 adolescent girls who go to school in La Ceiba (3 hours from the Finca proper).  The girls will be graduating this November and are very much in need of someone’s guidance and support; so, after much discernment Allison our kindergarten teacher chose to move to La Ceiba for the rest of the her time in Honduras.  That’s how I became a kindergarten teacher.

While I could look at all of this as an undue burden or an insurmountable challenge, I have to be thankful for Allison’s generous response to God’s call.  I’m thankful for the kindergarteners' excitement when they found out that Profe. Kevin would be their teacher and for their daily hugs.  I’m reassured by my own patron saint of Kindergarten teachers, my aunt Mone, who I know is looking down and smiling. 

There’s a song that I heard during our communion service today that I remember being quite striking the first time that I heard it.  It’s called “Tu Pones Lo Demas” which would translate to “You Put in the Rest.”  The song talks about the boy with the loaves and fishes, the host of the wedding feast in Cana, and the Apostles as they fished without success, and God took the little, simple things that they had to offer and transformed them into miraculous signs of God’s generosity and love for us.  The refrain says: 

It’s so little, Lord, what I have to bring, It’s so little what I can give.  My work is the water that I want to offer, and my effort a piece of bread.  In Your divine hands I put it, and You, Lord, put in the rest. 

My time here is growing shorter.  My energy seems less and less, but what little I have I can offer.  I can trust that God will work through me and my community members so that His will might be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.  

Today was another testament to this fact.  We left for Mass in Trujillo this morning at the normal time as we do every Sunday.  When we arrived, there was a big parade going on because today is Honduran Flag Day.  We still made it to the church on time and sat waiting for Mass to begin.  Eventually, a woman of the parish got up and announced that Mass was canceled for the morning because of all of the noise from the marching bands.  This left us wondering what we should do.  Wait around with all the kids for 2 hours for another Mass? Go at night (potentially more dangerous)? Go back to the Finca and have a communion service?  The decision was especially difficult considering that none of the Franciscan sisters nor the director of the Finca are here right now.  

Finally, we settled on going back to the Finca and having communion service.  On the spot I agreed to lead it.  Of course, this meant that there was no time to prepare a reflection on the readings like I would normally do.  We quickly chose lectors and a Eucharistic minister and several of the tias put together the songs that we would sing.  I reminded everyone that we would need the help of the whole community to reflect on the readings.  When it came time for the reflection, several people shared, and it all turned out great.  As we walked back to the house, Ashley asked me, “Did you ever think you’d lead a Sunday service in Spanish?” The answer, “No, not really.”  God put in the rest.       

More Tadpoles

PS: Another funny story about tadpoles.  Recently, Dania, the director of our school, made a public service announcement that we should all remember to pour water in the toilet when we have gone #2, and it won’t flush.  She asked the students hypothetically, “Now if you were at home, you wouldn’t just leave that there in the toilet now would you?  What would you do?”  While most of the kids mumbled quietly in agreement and defeat that they would pour water on it, Joel announced the entire primary school, God, and whoever else was within earshot “I only pee at school! I never poop here!” Thanks, Joel. 

Now you’re probably thinking—Kevin, this has nothing to do with tadpoles.  You caught me; the first part of the story doesn’t have a thing to do with tadpoles, but what happens next does.  My special friend, Darwin, a kind of child version of St. Francis, raised his hand and explained to Dania that he didn’t want to pour water from the pila (a kind of concrete reservoir of water) because someone would hurt the “animalitos.”  His concern showed in his face and gestures. Having no clue what he was talking about, Dania assured him repeatedly that not “animalitos” would be harmed.  Dirty water won’t hurt the fish in the sea, Darwin.   Darwin’s preoccupation could not be assuaged…that’s not what he was talking about.  It seems that there are animalitos in the pila, and Darwin just wanted to make sure that the young tadpoles had a chance to survive.  Mary Clare, take a lesson from Darwin (and not the Natural Selection guy—the little boy from the Finca del Niño).

Psalm 103

God surrounds you with love and compassion…God’s love towers over the faithful.

Tomás is very small, miniscule even, and very delicate.  He is helpless.  He cannot move around on his own.  He’s totally dependent.  I have been charged with his care.  Tomás is a gecko (really a gecko egg at this point), but he has a lot of potential and a name.

How did I come to be the adoptive caregiver of this young reptile?  Well, my special friend Darwin, a real lover of animals, found him in the corner of the chapel near the feet of the Mary statue.  During rosary on Tuesday night, Darwin gifted him to me.  I found myself cradling a tiny gecko egg in one hand while trying to count my Hail Marys with the other.

So Darwin and I traded off holding Tomás during rosary.  Once it was over and all the kids had trickled back home, I was left with Tomás in my hand—just sitting there silently.

Darwin had told me how to take care of him, “Wrap him up in some cloth and put some sand over him to keep him warm.  You are to show him to your students, too.”

Yes, he was in my care now.  I watched him with great concern, and I closed my hand gently around him, and there was the world in the hand of God.  There was God gently, carefully, lovingly enveloping the world in the warmth of His love and the pressure of His touch…but not too much.  Too much and we would be crushed, splattered yolks with no chance for life or love.  To much and we would never meet our full potential, live the life we are called to live.  And there was Tomás happy and free, guarded and loved—just enough not too much.

And happy feast of St. Francis of Assisi!

Farewell Tadpoles

Coming back the Finca after a truly relaxing and refreshing vacation has been really great.  I feel that I’ve really been able to get back into the grit and grime of Finca days with fresh eyes and new energy; nonetheless, there was one rather grave surprise upon my return. 

Before I continue, I must say that I am forever and eternally indebted to Mary Clare for covering my classes for the entirety of my vacation and for being an all-around great gal.  I especially want to thank Bobby and her for extending their Finca adventure for an extra two weeks.  I guess they just couldn’t get enough!

Well, enough beating around the bush.   I was welcomed back the Finca with a note from Mary Clare on the computer summarizing the work that she had done in my absence, where they had left off, how the kids behaved, etc.  Among a few lines apologizing for missing gluesticks, tape, and that little man that goes with the car that we used for physics experiments (whom Fernando had last seen), Mary Clare dropped the following ominous message: “Now I must address a loss much more serious in nature that I had hoped I would never have to discuss with you. Further elaboration on this topic is in another document in my folder entitled ‘IOU’.”

My immediate reaction—oh no! Something worse than losing that little toy man!  He’s just so perfect for demonstrating inertia!...wait, maybe someone was critically injured during the egg drop experiment…or maybe she let one of the kids borrow my pen with the four colors (It’s black, blue, red, and green for crying out loud!).  Ok, so I settled down and mustered up the courage to open the fated document.  To my surprise this is what I read:

IOU some tadpoles.

My deepest apologies for not taking better care of those little creatures…As soon as you asked me to feed them everyday I thought I heard their little voices crying out, “Please don’t leave us to our doom Kevin! She looks worse than Darla from Finding Nemo.” In not telling you about those whispers I heard that day I ensured their demise and secured my own place in history as the girl with a higher aquatic death count than that terrifying dentist’s daughter [sic.]. Please accept my apologies and know that I will forever try to atone for this mistake! 

Below is the gravestone I designed for them should you feel like using it.

Tomb of the Unknown Tadpoles June 26, 2012- July 15, 2012 Beloved sons, daughters, friends, and compañeros de clase “One fish, two fish, red fish, dead fish.” -Dr. Seuss

P.S. If there happen to be tadpoles in your aula it was because they resurrected, not because I told Fernando, David, and Denis to find some more. 

Don’t worry, Mary Clare, I forgive you.

4 Tunes I Never Thought I'd hear in Church:

1.              Jingle Bells (a song about going to Bethlehem to greet the newborn Jesus on Christmas).

2.              The Sounds of Silence (#75 in the hymnal, a version of the Our Father sung to this popular tune. Do you think Simon and Garfunkel know?).

3.              Blowin' in the Wind (I don't really know what the words to this one are which makes it even more tempting to sing along like Dylan).

4.              The Little Drummer Boy (although technically a Christmas song, its scriptural inaccuracy and annoying “parumpapumpum” should never be heard in any decent Christian place of worship).