Pictures of the El Sal trip

I thought I would post a couple of pictures of Emily's El Sal trip. The top picture is Emily and a few of the children. She has lots and lots of pictures of children and it is obvious that the children really touched her heart. The bottom picture is the house they built after they got it framed and roofed. Amazing to think that this is 3 times larger than the family's previous home! A family of 5 will be living there.

Puts life in perspective, doesn't it? Makes this look particularly obscene.

So What's Up?

I haven't been around here much and I really don't know why. I just haven't felt like blogging. I think late winter really got me down, which is odd for me. I usually operate more or less on an even keel, but I felt blue and yucky beginning in late January. I just didn't care.

Now however, I am lonely. I miss my blogging buddies. I apologize for my neglect. Whatcha been up to? Anything new in your lives? I've been reading blogs, but not commenting much.

My daughter-in-law is into the homestretch(mark) of her pregnancy. 72 days to go. Her baby shower was last Saturday. They got just about everything they need for the baby, except for the crib. The other teachers in her school gave them enough money to buy one though, so they are set. Now we wait. My good friend Toni sent me some plain white bibs so I can embroider more. : ) Anything I don't give to them, I can save for other grandchildren in the future.

Emily is back at school from her spring break in El Salvador. I have posted her Facebook notes here. She also met Marvin Alberto, the boy we sponsored in El Salvador years ago. She said he was very shy. Emily will be spending her summer in the diocese of Lincoln, Nebraska working with Totus Tuus. I am going to miss her, but I know she will do well. It will be good for her.

Melissa was home for break and is back at school. She has a summer job already. She is looking for a second one as she will probably need to buy a new laptop before school starts again.

Becky is still doing Scholastic Bowl. I think there are only 2 more meets. Tonight she is having a friend over to spend the night (we are on Spring Break). Another friend is coming over to hang out,but she doesn't want to spend the night, so her mom will pick her up later.

Business is starting to pick up a bit- this is always our busy time with RCIA, Easter, Confirmation and First Communions coming up. If you would, say a prayer that we become insanely busy. My "salary" pays for Becky's tuition and it has only been dribbling in and that's not going to cut it. The Christian bookstore in our town has recently gone out of business, so maybe our business will pick up some from that too. St Homobonus is the patron saint of businesses, so he would be a good one to bother about his. (one of the many things I've learned in the course of my employment there).

I've spent today online planning another trip to Chicago, like the ill-fated one we planned last year that ended up being a root canal instead. Maybe I should stop the planning. But I really want to go. I can think of so many fun things to do there. I hate being financially challenged.

So that pretty much catches you up with me. I hope to be back more often. I miss blogging. I've just felt empty of ideas lately. Maybe spring will inspire me!

El Salvador Part II By Emily

Happy St. Patrick's Day! A holiday which, as it unsurprisingly turns out, is NOT a big deal in El Salvador.

We finished the houses today. I looked at our creation today and felt proud at what our team has accomplished: a house three times larger than the previous house they were living in. I was feeling pretty pleased...but then I realized that their new house was about the same size of my bedroom in my dorm. That's no reason NOT to be proud of what we have accomplished, I do realize; but the very fact that our small creation, made of metal sheets nailed to a wooden frame, is three times better than what they were previously living in... well, the world ought not to be proud of that.

The children are very affectionate. They absolutely lavish me with attention and gifts. Yesterday, serveral girls---Lupe, Nicole, Abby (?), Yulisa (?), and more--- grasped me by my arm and dragged me, confused and more than a little amused, to a house where they had prepared a large bowl full of jacotes (a fruit that grows on the trees in the neighborhood). I was moved by the pride they had in handing me the bowl full of fruit-- the only gift they had to offer.

They play with my hair, sit on my lap, tickle me (courtesy of a kindly suggestion from Br. Leven), play futbol and jump rope with me, and let me teach them the names of colors in English. They have infinite patience with my terrible Spanish. They are absolutely fascinated by blowing bubbles. At the end of the day, they walk us to our van shouting "adios!" or "bye-bye!" Today, they insisted on carrying our tools for us. And everyday, they make sure that we're coming back the next day. I'm sad that tomorrow I won't be able to answer yes to that question.

Not everything is so fulfilling. Little things go wrong: the jokes meant only in good fun suddenly get to me; my inability to understand the Spanish is aggravating; my inadequacy with a hammer and saw is just plain sad. But it is important for me to remember that this mission trip is not about me feeling competent or satisfied. Rather, it is about that Gift of Self I mentioned in my last note. As Blessed Mother Teresa said, "A sacrifice to be real must cost, must hurt, must empty ourselves." And when I DO feel fulfilled--which, make no mistake, is often-- I do have a vicious sunburn to offer up as well.

Una Jacote

El Salvador Part I By Emily

I stole this entry from my daughter's facebook note. This is her journal of the first day of work on her El Salvador Mission trip.


This opportunity to come to El Salvador quite literally fell into my lap with a suprising and benevolent $1500 donation sent to me through my campus mailbox. This is a single example of the generous spirit that has marked this trip from its beginning. Gaudium et Spes calls for a sincere "Gift of Self." This gift is the central vein of the trip.

I have never travelled out of the country before. I was, therefore, unprepared for the cultural differences upon arrival in El Salvador. However when we drove through San Salvador, I was struck with a bizarre feeling of familarity: gaudy advertisements, large shopping malls, an abundance of fast food restaurants, and other sights familiar to any American. Different country but the same materialism thrust upon you day after day.

However, the next day Henry Flores, the leader of the CFCA headquarters in Santa Ana, taught us about the political and econmic crisis in the country. "What you saw yesterday (San Salvador)," he said, "was a small part of what we are not." He described the poverty of most of the populace, who spend a bulk of their deplorably inadequate income on necessities like transportation. The threat of any medical expenses is source of constant fear. Spending on recreation is out of the question.

But the comfortable anger that numbers written on a dry-erase board inspire is nothing to first-hand witness of these atrocities. We piled into a van and traveled along bumpy dirt roads to the house of a family of five. It was called a house; but frankly, even the words "tool shed" are too elevated. It was a crude bamboo and mud shack with a dilapated metal roof, a ripped tarp for a door, a dirt floor, and a solitary bed. The family and neighbors were thin and thread-worn; the neighborhood dusty and dry; the nomadic dogs' ribs protruded from their sides. This was impoverishment incarnate.

And yet, there was dignity in the faces of the people from this barren Santa Ana neighborhood. I was struck with a sense of joy in this community, for, truly, a community is exactly what they were. The neighbors gathered timidly to watch as we struggled to make a dent in the hard ground with spades and shovels. As the dirt turned over, the children gradually emerged from the sides of their mothers. They were fascinated by the digital cameras and shyly agreed to have their picture taken. Before long, the foundations of the new house were beginning to form and our group had forged friendships with the niños, who now absolutely demanded to have their pictures taken. They filled their t-shirts with fruit and gave it to us girls and described us as "bonitas," a generous characterization given the sweat, dirt, and burns we were sporting. They sang a Spanish song for us and in return we unashamedly belted out "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes." And as we left the building site at the end of the day, toting the tools away, they followed us. They were my amigos nuevos.

If a "Gift of Self" is the theme of this mission then the people stand at the heart of this theme.

Emily
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."

Scholastic Bowl

These are a couple of pictures from before yesterday's Scholastic Bowl meet. I had planned on taking pictures during the meet, but I was asked to be the timekeeper and I didn't think it would be right to put down the stopwatch to pick up the camera. (especially since most questions have a 15 second limit). Anyway, here is the gang. In the top picture, Michael, Michael, John, Mady and Becky are at the table and Joe is "on the bench". The bottom picture shows John, Mady and Becky practicing.

It's Still There . . .

Remember the dead tree in my neighbor's yard? The one I worried would fall in the ice storm in December?

It's still there. It did loose several branches and alot of it's bark this winter, but it hasn't fallen on our shed and taken out our electric line.

Yet.

We are entering severe weather time in central Illinois - we've had high winds already - gusts up to 58 miles an hour on Sunday. The tree withstood that, but see the tarp on our neighbor's shed? His shed doors blew off and he and his wife were out of town. Jim worried that the rain and the wind would ruin all of the stuff in his shed, so we went over there and tied a tarp on to protect his belongings. It's still there, so we must have done ok.

You can tell that it is another gray day here. I am so ready for some sun. Anyway, please pray that this tree can stand up against our spring weather and can hold out until things dry out around here so that, hopefully, it can come down this summer in a controlled fashion.

Things That Led Me To The Church

I think I mentioned that I grew up a Lutheran. My family wasn't exactly anti-Catholic, but on the other hand, the Catholic church was not held in high regard either. We lived in a very Catholic neighborhood - the family next door had 13 children, the one across the street had 9. We were definitely an anomaly with our little family of two kids. ("Never let them outnumber you" was my Dad's motto!) Also, some members of my mother's family were Catholic. My grandmother was raised Catholic and left the church when she married my grandfather. Her step-mother was very Catholic and was a dear, sweet little old lady.

So I guess I knew some things about the Catholic church, like you couldn't eat meat on Friday and you HAD to go to church on Sunday whereas we Lutherans could sleep in if we wanted to. I thought that was a good deal. But Catholics had these pretty necklaces with pretty beads and I wanted one. My best friend was #8 out of the 13 kids next door, but I also was friends with her slightly older sister. The sister, we'll call her Mary Margaret, had just made her First Communion and was given a pretty blue "necklace." I've always been partial to blue and this was just lovely. Lots of pretty beads and a cross at the end. I WANTED it! I just had to have it. So I traded her Barbie clothes for it. I think it cost me several outfits including a green satin evening gown, but I had the "necklace"! I took it home proudly to show my Mom. It was the prettiest thing I had ever seen, but Mom was horrified. She explained to me, in a rather shrill, loud tone, that my "necklace" was a rosary and that CATHOLICS pray on it! I was to take that thing right back over to Mary Margaret and give it back to her. If Mary Margaret's mother had known, she would have been horrified too for similar reasons. Anyway, I had to take it back. Mary Margaret gave me back MOST of the Barbie clothes ,but I never saw that evening gown again and it was handmade! So, although I had to give back the pretty blue rosary, when it came time to get one for myself after our conversion, I bought a pretty blue one. I think mine is even nicer than Mary Margaret's because mine has Lourdes water in it and I love Bernadette too.

My next brush with Catholicism came when I was 10. We were visiting my grandparents in Iowa when we found out that my Grandpa was very sick with cancer. He had to go to the hospital right away and he was admitted to the Catholic hospital about 45 miles away from their house. Children weren't allowed to visit hospitals in those days, but my parents arranged with with the nurses that I could come on Christmas and my brother would be able to come the day after, as long as we didn't stay too long. I got to see my Grandpa and my Great-grandpa (who was in the same hospital at the same time) and then my Dad gave me $1.00 and sent me to the hospital gift store. It didn't take me long to pick out what I wanted to buy. It was beautiful and mysterious. An adjustable silver (colored) ring with two hearts in the front. In one heart was a pretty light blue rhinestone and the other heart had a blue oval in it. If you looked at the oval, there was a beautiful woman standing there with her hands outstretched. I knew it was Mary. It was the prettiest thing in the shop and it cost exactly $1.00. Again I couldn't wait to show my parents my purchase. Their reaction was not what I had hoped for, but I didn't really care. I had the ring and I could look at that pretty blue oval with Mary in it for hours and I did. The ring did have a drawback however. It turned my finger green. Eventually, the ring broke and I threw it away. I still think about it though. I've looked in every catalog in the store at work and can't find anything like it now. I think I'd like to get one, just to remember.

One other thing that happened is that my great-grandmother (really my grandma's step mother) gave me a family treasure when I graduated from high school. The picture on the top shows my gift - a tiny, possibly handmade, picture of the Sacred and Immaculate Hearts. My Mom told me that Gladys always had that little picture hanging on the wall next to their bed. It may have come from Ireland when the family immigrated. And now she was giving it to me. I have to tell you that in all honesty, I was underwhelmed. I was probably hoping for money, but Gladys was pretty smart. How she knew that one day, decades later, I would join the church and that her little picture would hang next to our bed in a place of honor, I don't know. Maybe she was praying for me. I hope so. I like to think so. I have often thought of her giving that to me and wondered. She had two step children, probably 6 grandchildren and lots and lots of great-grandkids, most of whom were Catholic, yet she chose me to have this gift, which meant so much to her. We only saw her a few times a year and I was a quiet, shy, awkward kid, but somehow, someway she knew to give it to me and maybe she knew that someday it would mean as much to me as it did to her.

A blue rosary, a ring, an old small picture. Little things. They helped to lead me home.

There is Hope!

There is some hope that spring will be arriving soon. These lovely green leaves are from our poppy.
Daffodils! Won't be long now!
This is our rhubarb, just beginning to poke their little red heads out of the ground. And none too soon too, because I only have one jar of my rhubarb jam left. I need to make more as soon as we can harvest.

The weather is warming. We are currently having a thunderstorm. On Friday, I drove down to Edwardsville to pick up Melissa for her spring break and it was around 80 there. The kids were wearing shorts and t-shirts on campus. We weren't quite as warm up here, but we've had the windows open and it's so nice to hear the birds sing! I noticed today that the lilac bushes are budding now. After months of gray, it's nice to see a little green poking through here and there. It won't be long now.

At the Nursing Home

The other night we went to the nursing home to drop off some items for Jim's Mom. She wasn't in her room, so we figured that she would be just finishing her dinner in the dining room and we headed that way when we noticed her being wheeled down the hall. She saw us and I really believe that her eyes lit up. (For those who don't know, my mother-in-law is in the late stages of Alzheimer's.) We came near her and she reached out her hands to us. We held out our hands and she grabbed them and she took mine and just covered it with kisses. I was so surprised and touched. That one little gesture of hers means so much to me. I've been thinking about it all the time since then. Somehow, deep down, she knows that we belong to her and she loves us for it. That's good enough for me.

In the time that my mother-in-law has been in the nursing home, we've met some characters and have had some adventures. When she was first admitted, several years ago, she was placed in the Alzheimer's wing. Most of the people there were pretty "with it" yet. And they loved Becky to bits. And Becky loved them. We would visit and she would play with the residents. She sang to them, danced for them and on at least one occasion, she batted a balloon around with a entire line of them. Everyone laughed and I'm sure that her visit did more for them than anything else could.

Soon however, my mother-in-law was moved to a more medically intense wing. One of the first residents we met over there was Jennie (not her real name). Jennie was wheelchair bound and was blind in one eye, yet she got around pretty well. She was often found sitting at a vantage point near the lobby where she could see all of the comings and goings. As we walked by one day, Jennie grabbed my hand. "I know!" She said to me as if she had just gotten the most marvelous idea, "Lets you and me go fishing!" I regret to tell you that Jennie and I never got a chance to go fishing as she died last month.

One time while we were with my mother-in-law and were helping her eat lunch, another resident was passing through the dining room in her wheelchair. She was not wearing any pants. Soon a nurse came running after her calling "Esther, you need to put your pants on!" Esther refused, so the nurse insisted that she at least cover her legs with a throw. This worked for a few minutes and then Esther became convinced in her own mind that she needed to hang that throw over the chair rail on the wall. Well, since the chair rail is nailed to the wall, it is impossible to drape anything over it,but Esther was not deterred in her mission. She'd pick up one corner of her throw and tried very hard to tuck it in between the rail and the wall. She was sure she had gotten it done when the throw fell to the floor. Of course she could not pick it up without falling out of her chair, so I ran over and picked it up and placed it in her lap. She began trying to hang it over the chair rail again and it fell. I replaced it. This went on for quite some time when Esther finally got disgusted and decided to just toss the throw on the floor and continue on her way. She hadn't gotten too far when I picked up her blanket and covered her up. She threw it off. I covered her up. All this time, I am talking to her and telling her that she needs to keep her blanket on her legs so that she doesn't get cold. Finally she looks up at me with her blue eyes and motions me to come closer. I bent over her and leaned in. I thought perhaps she wanted to tell me something. No, as I got closer, she reached up with her frail, feeble little hand and ever so softly slapped me on the cheek. She DID NOT want that throw on her legs and I was irritating the poor soul to bits!

My mother-in-law, Jennie and Esther are just three of the very special people who have lived in our nursing home. There are so many more, each with a wonderful story to tell.