tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52679888534590822112024-03-13T07:10:13.470-04:00¡Adventuras con la Corderita de María!I'm currently working for The Salesian Lay Missioners for 2 years, in the Bolivian countryside of Okinawa. I'm teaching, working with the communities, tutoring illiterate adults, helping with the internas and anything else they need help with! :)
Please keep us in your prayers! Thank You!MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-90835495892756339262011-04-08T19:21:00.008-04:002011-04-12T18:49:08.515-04:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">An Afternoon in Oki...</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Wednesday, April 6th, 2011</span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJL7NklTYnhvE-bwiaCMfqomqD12V8fqPsQ67Cca7-N0xhJBD5gMJktBkz6aI172RSFfIXm1SLdVUGzn12wdDTNUQWaO3WqYgLY65E2cAQehGMLqcXrCqMzpbBx86MWff_GdhiVXC4HEA_/s400/P4062640.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593358660715026450" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Look How Cute! </span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">No one could resist picking up the little piglets as they ran by us while we ate and cooked. Even Aureli, our youngest interna, could not help but smile while holding one with Carmen. Aureli is often teased for being the "runt" of the litter, making it even more perfect that she decided to grab one of the smallest piglets on there. Hence the smiles and laughter! :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pgGcjmd5qz98rZTJh9n8oKDu7qafDo-zCfX2V6T8BT-1jEqYMimvHwBqIy-Ec0wKUCYmk35y8Ut9WffOth__TubNFRoodAQsigu33w1JOr2SmlORtgHINThC8irxr-lw0ODM5JzjEnRW/s400/P4062637.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593360425233328690" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Look How Big & Strong!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After seeing how one of the women carried the baby pigs away from the mother's food, I thought I should give it a try. If the little pigs aren't taken away, they eat all the mother's food and then we have one angry hog without milk for the babies. But, once I picked two of them out, the other dozen or so piglets went hiding! :o</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb9P1KRm7PI0D1J_K0g2QBbI3HJLyDLOBg6UlnRxwhubq1cPBo7Dio2TpaeTCODsbD0jpSrYZvfXv-dCTZwjZNJaCquV05I-Q9xgfQxPnBVplicuybGzmVdHouL4zAiLvX2D6e1kqX6GWy/s400/P4062641.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593362370316024498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Look How Tasty!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once we were friends with the pigs, we decided they looked awfully tasty... so we had pork for lunch! :) Above Sor Gladis and the internas are preparing our dinner, spicy chicken. While the rest of us went out on the basketball court at the local school and played volleyball. Though we didn't keep score, and we had intermissions of random dancing, I think my team won!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMktWWZ7yfatq76-fcWhyvOTQ1MaVyhstn6FDKc7gaD21qpIUzroXV-LbhjlSVfceQiZfMdlP3w9Q6cTYU7gNOyLnw_QeI7iRk_EY-mmDsXiljRZil8IhyphenhyphenyyFxmb0wCkuQ2UOaFv0UDLv/s400/P4062578.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594819143539338770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Look At Our Yummy Dessert!</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After lunch and dinner, our dessert consisted of washing dishes and eating yummy lollypops, curtsey of Carmen! :) The home we visited belongs to one of the internas, a traditional Bolivian home in the countryside - hence the lack of indoor pluming, the family shares this water spiket their neighbors. But, it wasn't really an inconvenience at all once you had soap and buckets and plenty of little hands to help! :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Life is Good & Every day in Oki is a Gift!</div><div style="text-align: left;">Pleas<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">e keep us in your prayers, you're always in ours! :)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><p style="text-align: left;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Love the poor tenderly, regarding them as your masters and yourselves as their servants</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">." - St. John of God</span></span></span></p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-79077336448116448582011-03-25T16:49:00.007-04:002011-04-12T19:02:38.007-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkeNgmviZC6Aq4kC2Hfgm2yjrg7AioPQi7a5DE28PcExnY-q9pXPpI-kJIAEiNkxhqAvfKcBbrahQi9TgbOsZj8947dtIjNOJU5H-a7jW2tvLL0AwwpcxWzcW1zTOLq8Nzcmt-WOul-nI/s1600/P1292323.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkeNgmviZC6Aq4kC2Hfgm2yjrg7AioPQi7a5DE28PcExnY-q9pXPpI-kJIAEiNkxhqAvfKcBbrahQi9TgbOsZj8947dtIjNOJU5H-a7jW2tvLL0AwwpcxWzcW1zTOLq8Nzcmt-WOul-nI/s400/P1292323.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588125802870331586" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Saturday, March 12th, 2011</span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Mining in Potosi</span><br /></div></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; "> <!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal"> <!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Whistling’ While Workin’...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ever since I watched the documentary, </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Devil’s Miner</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – a documentary explaining the very real and harsh conditions workers, children, and their families suffer daily – I wanted to visit the mines in Potosi. Recently, Bolivia has made some more restrictions regarding child labor laws and from what we saw, they have been enforced and life is looking more promising.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Carlos, center is 20 years old and has been working in the mines of Potosi since he was 10, before the laws were changed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We joked that this gave him some sort of seniority; he laughed, and pointed to his friend who had been there longer, and therefore was his boss.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When we met Carlos and his friends, we quickly gave our peace offering of the traditional Bolivian coca leaves and soda – liquid energy that will curb their appetites for the next 19+hrs of work.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They hardly sleep.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When asked, the older of the boys said they’d sleep when the work was done. Their pay depends on the percentage of high-grade minerals, so if the mineral grad is low, so is their pay.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Being a teacher, I just had to ask Carlos, “How often are you going to school?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At first he said, “In the afternoons” but then added, only during breaks or national holidays, which are few and far between.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Many from my little town, Okinawa, are in the same situation.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From a young age they’ve had to work and therefore have little education.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This prevents them from getting different jobs, continuing the cycle of poverty. These were my thoughts, but Carlos...</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Being a 20 something year old, quickley asked if I was single and how old I was. After telling him I was 24, he said, "no importa!" :) Which made me laugh! :D Clearly, he wasn't shy with girls!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And there was GOOD NEWS! Life for them is starting to change.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The new labor laws from 2008 are making an impact, not only keeping small children out of the mines, but different organizations have set up school and programs to help the families.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If you want to read more or see the documentary, visit </span><span style="mso-bidi-mso-bidi-;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://www.thedevilsminer.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">www.th</span>e</span></a></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight:bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://www.thedevilsminer.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">devilsminer</span></a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://www.thedevilsminer.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">.com</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; "></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style="mso-bidi-mso-bidi-;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">You shall love your neighbor as yourself</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">." Mark 12:31</span></span></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-37029090590215558222011-02-18T10:33:00.004-04:002011-04-01T11:55:29.679-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDcLbBWkySCA7BsteXQiT0V3Xprj-EekAbouSvJclgOMNlxZZ8D0Bo08PkqtmWyoAyWshXb9CPlMW-WOcj0KQuDd8FH7bIg8v239WPJxtsuxa6WufTCV2anZ5t8nGwOAq7YyN7CJMk3G0/s1600/CBBA+RETREAT+2011.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDcLbBWkySCA7BsteXQiT0V3Xprj-EekAbouSvJclgOMNlxZZ8D0Bo08PkqtmWyoAyWshXb9CPlMW-WOcj0KQuDd8FH7bIg8v239WPJxtsuxa6WufTCV2anZ5t8nGwOAq7YyN7CJMk3G0/s400/CBBA+RETREAT+2011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575038088607204514" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Saturday, January 29th, 2011</span></span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Falling in Love with Prayer, SLM Retreat 2011</span></span></div><div> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">During the First weekend in February, all the 12 SLMs from Bolivia were able to meet up in Cochabamba for a much needed spiritual retreat. It was so nice to see volunteers that I hadn't seen for over 7 months! Every site gave a presentation or a talk on a particular aspect of their spiritual journey. Our site presented a talk on the importance of prayer in our lives and how when we fall in love with prayer, we fall in love with God. Enjoy! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"When you fall in love with prayer, your life is set apart from others, no matter how you pray or spend time with the Lord.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When you fall in love with prayer, it allows us to fully fall in love with God.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This personal relationship with God, according to Pope Benedict, is what matters most in one’s life, it is one’s friendship with God.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What happens in normal human relationships, we should share with God, we need to spend time with God.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Making” time for God is essential, we have to remove the obstacles from our lives, such as being “too busy”, because if John Paul II was able wake up early every morning at 5:30am to pray and Christ here on earth placed even more importance on prayer, then if somehow those crazy “busy” men found time, so can you!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It requires discipline, the root of that word being </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">discipl</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e – key if you desire to faithfully follow Christ and fall in love with Him. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When you finally </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">do</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> make time, it is not time to think about what you need to do, or what you would like to accomplish, rather focusing on God, even when we don’t know what to say.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Praying and spending time with God is </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">the most </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">important task of our day, being distracted “busy Martha’s” actually waste time, with chatting, Facebook, cleaning, or the many other endless activities that fill every last second of our day…but when you are truly close to someone and truly are on fire with love for them could you honestly tell them, “I just don’t have time, I’m too busy!?” Seriously you won’t go very far in a human relationship with that kind of attitude, nor will your personal relationship with Christ grow if you have nothing more to say than every other little activity, thought, and preoccupation takes precedent over You LORD! That hurts. You might start to understand the consequences that come from not placing the one you love…aka GOD, first, not last, but FIRST and LAST and ALL day long!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Prayer is something supernatural, it is very useful to ask for help, “Lord, please teach me how to pray, will you help me?” This was the simple prayer of the little saint from Calcutta, and she had the one of the most beautiful relationships with God from our time, and yet she still, in her humility asked that God teach her how to pray, give her the words daily, in her sweet desire of wanting more intimacy with out LORD. The Pope Benedict further explains that our prayers become hope in action, bringing everyone around you closer to God and His love!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Praying and asking God, “I know I don’t understand how YOU do things, but I know YOU are there, please give me faith!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And, ask friends, family and the saints above to further intercede for your request to pray and strengthen your relationship with GOD.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops: 0in"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Make a resolution to keep with persistent prayer, and form a sweet tangible sweet relationship with GOD.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Poco a Poco, little by little, send God whatever troubles, offering anything and everything to You, LORD – in the hopes of attaining a relationship which is the most powerful, beautiful and sweet and seeking it through effort every day and through God’s Grace.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are called to pray without ceasing, so the idea of spontaneously seeking God throughout the day, and making quick visits to the chapel, while in class, running, or singing, we can praise God & seek Him, because you have fallen in LOVE with Him!"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Times;"></span></p><p><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">"Who except God can give you peace? Has the world ever been able to satisfy the heart?"</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> - St. Gerard Majella</span></span></span></p><p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-80546376409656192442010-12-27T02:55:00.011-04:002011-04-13T13:25:30.458-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASzrqeOqDRRYCgaCpp0djyN8FiM2cPY1VbQyFJOp92LxgU8Npf_0osZjHArnJkBWHd96lnNCnJvNqFE_ppdkHvzzbk1bvgEeLMID8F_N39B00CiDA2hYhDegc93vXKyEzagmBNqx0nPXv/s1600/man+reacts+with+laughter+after+recieving+a+tent+for+his+family+after+the+floods+in+Pakinstan.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASzrqeOqDRRYCgaCpp0djyN8FiM2cPY1VbQyFJOp92LxgU8Npf_0osZjHArnJkBWHd96lnNCnJvNqFE_ppdkHvzzbk1bvgEeLMID8F_N39B00CiDA2hYhDegc93vXKyEzagmBNqx0nPXv/s400/man+reacts+with+laughter+after+recieving+a+tent+for+his+family+after+the+floods+in+Pakinstan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555279715939930578" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Thursday, December 23, 2010</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:24px;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Making a Soul Smile</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A few months ago I was sent the picture above by my fellow site partner, Bryan. Everyday, CNN publishes a group of photos and last September I was captivated by this laughing Pakistani man who laughed after receiving a tent for himself and his family after the devastating floods. His joyous, smiling laugher reminded me of a woman I met my first week on mission, named Denise.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was my first trip to the city, when I saw her lying on the street – dirt and an oversized t-shirt were the only things covering her naked, weary body. My heart ached when I saw her, what could I do!? She looked cold, perhaps a blanket? But I had no idea where to look for one, and we were walking quickly in the opposite direction. I felt hopeless, I came to Bolivia to help and here I was walking past someone in need – but right then I saw a blanket stand! Clearly, God wanted her to have a blanket too! :) I stopped, had just enough money and grabbed one. Running down streets spilling with people, I found her still lying there and asked, (in broken Spanish) “Do you want?”</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">She smiled. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I covered her in the big beautiful blanket, covering her toes so they’d be nice and warm. I stood back, amazed by her beautiful transformation – as if the very presence of God was in my midst. I noticed the shopkeepers around stopped what they were doing and pointed and smiled too. I’m so grateful to witness God’s presence daily in Bolivia and see small glimpses of God’s love while I help serve. I pray all are covered in Mary’s mantle, protected, and know that they are loved. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I learned that, rather than </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">receiving the blanket, Denise's happiness seemed to come from being cared for and receiving basic human affection, such a simple smile. Because the poor are so numerous here, I'm unable to always give material goods, such as a blanket - but I am always able to give a smile! :D</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the spirit of Christmas, I've included an old favorite of mine:</span></span></p> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Value of a Smile at Christmas </span></span></span></span><span style=";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><b><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"</span></span></span></b><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It costs nothing, but creates much. It enriches those who receive, without impoverishing those who give. It happens in a flash and the memory of it sometimes lasts forever. None are so rich they can get along without it, and none so poor but are richer for its benefits. It creates happiness in the home, fosters good will in a business, and is the countersign of friends. It is rest to the weary, daylight to the discouraged, sunshine to the sad, and Nature's best antidote for trouble. Yet it cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen, for it is something that is no earthly good to anybody till it is given away. And if the last-minute rush of Christmas buying some of our salespeople should be too tired to give you a smile, may we ask you to leave one of yours? For nobody needs a smile so much as those who have none left to give!</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- Originally an ad from a New York City department store who ran years ago to its customers and later was reprinted in Dale Carnegie's book, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">How to Win Friends and Influence People</span></span></i></span></p> <!--StartFragment--></span></div></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-85190956207791652272010-11-12T16:27:00.014-04:002011-02-19T14:45:04.516-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-rxvnIfZvzADp53Dkh_fvO2FinaYc0Jn26tFUGBCmsVXahVeJSE1BYSXB-qdZMMtzR9VqQw_qliv4ikRNJbqWRGoCpeg1ofQdrrSWKSfyi9ietyYXD-D0dNuXRTP5Y4THO2Uto5G9o1n/s1600/PA131382.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-rxvnIfZvzADp53Dkh_fvO2FinaYc0Jn26tFUGBCmsVXahVeJSE1BYSXB-qdZMMtzR9VqQw_qliv4ikRNJbqWRGoCpeg1ofQdrrSWKSfyi9ietyYXD-D0dNuXRTP5Y4THO2Uto5G9o1n/s400/PA131382.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538786465678994738" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Thursday, November 11, 2010</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Bailes Bonitas</span></span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Teacher, I'm leaving class to go dance, chau!"</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They would leave me in a confused daze, as I watched half my class disappear with a radio.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I didn’t understand coming down to Bolivia that dancing is more important than my English class – not because dancing the </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tinku</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> will give then an edge when they eventually hit the job market, but because knowing how to dance, quite simply, makes you Bolivian.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With this perspective, I can understand why the school permits the students to practice – because to be illiterate in the language of the body, would also prevent the students from moving fluently within their own culture and society.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So, before they learn anything else in school, they must first learn to dance.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As soon as the little ones can walk, there’s a distinctive waddle in their hips, and by the time they’ve reached Kinder there’re wearing their mom’s makeup with a tablecloth and shaking it like Shakira.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s rather impressive.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’m always amused when they try teaching me; even when I tell them my hips don’t move like theirs. When I watch the junior high students – all the awkwardness of puberty is masked behind bright beautiful flowing skirts and crisp white linen, making perfect young suitors.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I wonder why so many young Americans chose to dance the way they do, when they could dance like the Bolivians! :) </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">By knowing how to dance, these young Bolivians are filled with culture, pride and more importantly – confidence.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To have confident students aware of their bodies and culture is beautiful to witness, and having confident students is all a teacher could ask for.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"I would only believe in a God who knew how to dance." - </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Friedrich Nietzsche</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <!--EndFragment--></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-44607254772291558462010-11-06T14:14:00.007-04:002010-11-12T13:50:52.327-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8k7dReXVJcCNOcCg5NLVaQ2P4x0YrWfKnUtomg2kpiVw-ryRSc9yVdiux2seF0Mv8iE1ggv3rFFc6XOkaq9He-9Fhwo1dOwPQrEzfUv_z02Ey0rTAOgqIuLz2pMUVUIEM_pNFmXlEbS_/s1600/PA241454.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8k7dReXVJcCNOcCg5NLVaQ2P4x0YrWfKnUtomg2kpiVw-ryRSc9yVdiux2seF0Mv8iE1ggv3rFFc6XOkaq9He-9Fhwo1dOwPQrEzfUv_z02Ey0rTAOgqIuLz2pMUVUIEM_pNFmXlEbS_/s400/PA241454.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536504608655126386" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:13px;">Sunday, October 24, 2010<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The Bulla Battalion</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They might appear like little thugs, but don’t be fooled – their only weapons are those little white rosaries clutched in their hands and their mischievous smiles!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> :) </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">These dashing young men are my little seventh graders – wearing their Sunday best for their First Communion.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Last spring, Bryan and I starting helping the other catechists on Sunday mornings – were many of the students were also in my English classes at the junior high.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Typically, the sacraments are received much later than what is customary in the States – the average age being 12 years old, to make sure the students have a strong literacy level needed to complete the course work.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Often my English classes consists of “bulla” or naughtiness, especially when it comes to the boys, who relentlessly flirt with the girls in the class.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Pobre Chicas! (poor girls!) When its time to start class or listen to a lesson, they’re the last ones to listen and often try to act “suave” with the ladies while I’m trying to correct them.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They loiter around the campus after school and practice their new pick-up lines on us, despite the fact we’re their teachers!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">O’ dear!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">:) So… you could say they’re a handful! This made Sunday morning quite amusing, when those same little troublemakers looked like sweet little angles! They were so excited to be all dressed up - eager to get their candles and rosaries, and wait in the procession line.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Come Monday morning, we’ll see how permanent the transformation is… but until then I can’t help but smile – it took only a little encouragement from their families and friends to transform them into these confident young men! So cute! :)</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"Prayer became my armor, and I wrapped it tightly around my heart." -Immaculee Iilbagiza</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-18266872870816711022010-10-24T13:45:00.003-04:002010-10-24T15:01:09.171-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggRujlOIw1zlhnd2LgZTFFPOSkuad57yvcYrCwPNFstFfdBy51KqX5T-r30SrD88jSBSQMpo0umBL8Nj0cROmpIOiT-aZPlo45q23OrRfruSkSffd4eLxS_BZvJL-q50XQino0SRmSAPyg/s1600/DSC02975.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggRujlOIw1zlhnd2LgZTFFPOSkuad57yvcYrCwPNFstFfdBy51KqX5T-r30SrD88jSBSQMpo0umBL8Nj0cROmpIOiT-aZPlo45q23OrRfruSkSffd4eLxS_BZvJL-q50XQino0SRmSAPyg/s400/DSC02975.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531673008265925538" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Wednesday, September 15, 2010</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Los Communidades</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: normal; font-size:19px;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Arguably one of the best parts of the job here in Okinawa, is going to the communities – where the American volunteers come to sing, teach a little catechism, color drawings, and play outside on the cancha, while giving our “saludos” to the club de Madres.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There are 14 communities surrounding the main town Okinawa I, where we live at the volunteer house and teach our English classes at the local public Catholic school*.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From Okinawa I, we take various unpaved dirt roads to any given community – ranging from 15 to 90 minutes away, leading us to some of the most remote and poorest people in Bolivia.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Driving to a community is always an adventure – after rain the car will skid on mud, while during the dry season the “pulvo” or dust can be near blinding, while trying to avoid the cows, sheep, pigs, and the inevitable Bolivian dogs.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But, the scenic views of an prestige farmland and seemingly untouched parts of the rainforest, makes up for any potential driving hazards – especially when a random flock of ostriches scurries by! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But the best part is when the truck pulls up at a community and you can hear the kids from the classroom squealing because they know they are in for a morning of fun activities that will momentarily take them away from their monotonous class work.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The community Rancho Chicho not only has audible squeals of delight, but the little ones run outside the classroom attacking the volunteers with such passionate hugs, that we have to hold on the sides of the classroom or we will fall over! …my job is rough at times! Lol </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">J</span></span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Once we manage to get inside the classroom, singing and laughing commence, flowed by an animated video and a puppet show and lastly coloring biblical scenes to reinforce the day’s lesson – using fun bright markers the kids love.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Then the mad dash to play outside and use the big bag of toys we bring every time or play “tic’tac’toe” with chalk from the classroom.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nearby the Club de Madres or Mother’s Club meets with Do</span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ñ</span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a Natty, who leads the various single working mothers in prayer and allows the women a respite from their work to discuss ways of gaining work or improving some of their home situations – and when its time to say “adios” the women always stop us to give us their fresh mangos or rice bread, generously giving us what they would happily eat.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As we put the toys and supplies away, often the little ones help or at least try and then make the car a jungle gym and play until we finally pull away! Eeeep! </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">J</span></span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">*Though not allowed in the United States, San Francico Xavier is both Catholic and public, allowing a saintly group of Salesian nuns to run the school, while it also gets funding and subsidies from the government.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="huge"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"It is not enough for us to say: "I love God", but I also have to love my neighbor. St. John says that you are a liar if you say you love God and you don't love your neighbor. How can you love God whom you do not see, if you do not love your neighbor whom you see, whom you touch, with whom you live? And so it is very important for us to realize that love, to be true, has to hurt. I must be willing to give whatever it takes not to harm other people and, in fact, to do good to them. This requires that I be willing to give until it hurts. Otherwise, there is not true love in me and I bring injustice, not peace, to those around me." - </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta </span></span></span></span></span></p>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-23417305127653245252010-09-26T15:23:00.008-04:002010-10-04T20:00:14.438-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqeeuEaGld9YwDaRFQXTEO7sAuyeOKK57sMNTkeLX0aSCtR1DLmndokP1SxilEFuAomV9Ao9zGqvYQV-4z1xI0YsnO9DN50BWPTgdFsRbcSFkTQ2C7lsIdR3PAJWxhAsGDfyFGc3_gSJg/s1600/DSC03101.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqeeuEaGld9YwDaRFQXTEO7sAuyeOKK57sMNTkeLX0aSCtR1DLmndokP1SxilEFuAomV9Ao9zGqvYQV-4z1xI0YsnO9DN50BWPTgdFsRbcSFkTQ2C7lsIdR3PAJWxhAsGDfyFGc3_gSJg/s400/DSC03101.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521309441019639970" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thursday, August 26, 2010</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">La Boda</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"> <!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After being partners for over 30 years and raising a family, this Bolivian couple decided finally they wanted to get married in the Catholic Church – a beautiful wedding, unlike any I had ever witnessed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thursday night Mass had just finished and I was making my way back to my room in the parroqu</span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">í</span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a, when I saw a cute baby covered in white lace.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I figured they were getting ready for a baptism, but after I congratulated them they told me the lace and flowers were for the grandmother who was getting married.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At the side of the church the grandmother started dressing herself in a new yellow Quechuian skirt and bright white lacy top (Quechuian language and dress is just one of many indigenous cultures that still exist here in Bolivia.)</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I asked if she wanted to use my room to change, but she insisted she was fine.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Her daughter and family friends helped her get dressed as her bashful beaming soon-to-be husband watched from a distance, so sweet! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After inquired if they needed any help and they discovered I had a camera, I soon found myself the photographer for the wedding!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This gave me the privilege of watching their simple ceremony with their few family and friends.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Unable to read, Padre Nestor read them the vows, in which the couple happily repeated as they laughed and smiled at each other.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They received Eucharist and took their first kiss as man and wife – in which their whole family cheered! </span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">J</span></span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When it came time to sign the marriage contract, the husband for the first time looked a bit confused. Padre soon realized he was unable to write his name, so he patiently explained how to make a mark on the certificate, while his wife wrote a legible “x”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The couple smiled at each other, laughed, kissed, held hands as they left the altar and headed out the church – followed by more cheers and plenty of confetti from their imitate family and few close friends.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Despite some difficulties, rarely have I seen such excitement and love between two newlyweds!</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: normal; "><span class="huge" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Marriage is an act of will that signifies and involves a mutual gift, which unites the spouses and binds them to their eventual souls, with whom they make up a sole family - a domestic church</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span><span class="huge" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">" - </span></span><span class="bodybold" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Pope John Paul II</span></span></span><br /></span></p>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-57154667754416288692010-09-11T18:01:00.013-04:002010-12-05T18:20:54.431-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGh0F-uANbZbyTxAPx5pruaQOnmr7GqscOOWXllO-ExdSAJWSjNuOO2o_jbyqzhm4XqQbBFjFi7KO1Xsxbzgq_k612kqHvqEaG74MCCyVatiK9nfYWQgRz3WcoTn4gOVF2ER56niOYM9e6/s1600/DSC03028.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGh0F-uANbZbyTxAPx5pruaQOnmr7GqscOOWXllO-ExdSAJWSjNuOO2o_jbyqzhm4XqQbBFjFi7KO1Xsxbzgq_k612kqHvqEaG74MCCyVatiK9nfYWQgRz3WcoTn4gOVF2ER56niOYM9e6/s400/DSC03028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516531315322058786" /></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGh0F-uANbZbyTxAPx5pruaQOnmr7GqscOOWXllO-ExdSAJWSjNuOO2o_jbyqzhm4XqQbBFjFi7KO1Xsxbzgq_k612kqHvqEaG74MCCyVatiK9nfYWQgRz3WcoTn4gOVF2ER56niOYM9e6/s1600/DSC03028.JPG"></a><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Monday, July 12, 2010</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Amor</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Puro</span></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Filled with the desire to share Christ’s vision of what love means in regards to sexual purity, Marie and Elizabeth ventured down once again to Bolivia during their summer vacation to share their mission of love: </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Amor</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Puro</span></span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Marie and Elizabeth were <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Salesian</span></span> Lay Missioners in Okinawa for 2+ years – teaching at the local high school and elementary school, San Francisco Xavier, that I presently teach at. During their last 6 months they started giving talks on human sexuality, specifically chastity talks and its relevance in the lives of the teens. They were so well received, they came back during their summer for round two and I was blessed to get to watch them in action!</span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Greatly inspired the teachings of John Paul II with his teachings on Theology of the Body, the girls gave chastity talks to different high schools and youth groups.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Starting with talks on self-esteem, t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">hey then used Jason Evert’s book, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Pure Love</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> as the base for their talks.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Each student received a booklet, were given assignments to read certain passages, and the following day the girls would go over the passage and explain how it was relevant in their lives. </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Being a teacher here in Bolivia, I wondered if the students would actually do the reading. Many of the students have jobs, as well as homework, on top of other challenges - but I was wrong. The students were actively engaged and when it came to homework some students even quoted verbatim from the book. Clearly, the message was of keen interest and because it was presented in an entirely new way, the teens were captivated. Many, many of the students are already sexually active - but are surprisingly unaware of the consequences: such as sexually transmitted <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">diseases</span>, pregnancy and even discussing what actually defines sex. The talks forced the students to understand and reflect upon their actions, to see how powerful sex is and God's beautiful purpose for it! </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most families here have life partners, rather than spouses. The concept of marriage as a sacrament and being faithful to one person, has yet to make its way into Bolivian culture. And, with continued efforts from the laity, like Marie and Elizabeth, it won't be long before it does.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">*If you are unfamiliar with or would like to learn more about Theology of The Body - Christopher West is a great start and so is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">EWTN's</span></span> reference of all of the 129 general audiences given by John Paul II (http://www.ewtn.com/library/papaldoc/jp2tb103.htm)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">God Bless - Hope you all are well!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Real love is demanding, I would fail in my mission if I did not tell you so. Love demands a personal commitment to the will of God.” - John Paul II</span></span></i></span></p></span></div></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-4005749629637391882010-08-06T14:44:00.004-04:002010-08-07T20:50:57.156-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXkH0ycVLaUqsHS_d2a0PkjwF8nId6NECyf7sRMgCPUVKRG5sLMKFJEQ7Mz5Mx_FOdFe0Y-7p50wesw8pLEsujUyy4cxZT0JN2Tnw8nwdqZFYOpR59eZHy0CFIK7vzaH11sXmHx4p7mlp/s1600/DSC03154.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifXkH0ycVLaUqsHS_d2a0PkjwF8nId6NECyf7sRMgCPUVKRG5sLMKFJEQ7Mz5Mx_FOdFe0Y-7p50wesw8pLEsujUyy4cxZT0JN2Tnw8nwdqZFYOpR59eZHy0CFIK7vzaH11sXmHx4p7mlp/s400/DSC03154.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502372787495402786" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 38px; font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Wednesday, June 30, 2010</span></span><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 20pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">At Last, Clean Water!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s been over 50 years since Okinawa was established in the countryside of eastern Bolivia – which now has schools, hospitals, and churches – even Internet! But clean drinking water was never a high priority.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The locals use the water straight from the tap without any purification or filtration system, making bacteria, viruses, and parasites easily transmitted throughout the community.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Having the privilege of living here for the past 10 months, I can attest for myself that living with bouts of amebic dysentery or “bichos” makes life at times seem unbearable, but you’d never hear that from them.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For many, becoming sick and dealing with fighting diseases is just part of life.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Recently I was asked to record the medical needs for the surrounding poor communities – every community suffered from dysentery and other diseases as a result of poor sanitation and unclean drinking water.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That’s now changing – a group from Missouri called, “Living Waters” came in June and installed a water filtration system in the heart of my little school.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The group of four, led by Ron, built the entire system and then lead classes teaching the volunteers as well as the locals how to maintain a clean system and what the clean water should be used for: drinking, cooking, brushing teeth, and cleaning little babies.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The idea of using “clean water” is slowly taking affect – the nuns no longer have to buy big jugs of purified water from the city and for the first time the interñas (the little boarding school girls) get clean water too, just yesterday they were playing and laughing at the little bubbles the water dispenser makes! :) </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-mso-bidi-;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“A woman from Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” John 4:7</span></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-84005003936306212322010-07-06T19:35:00.004-04:002010-07-06T20:03:05.961-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH0d8qNouAqPXakl127gBO_rzuau_C37bgFsq6HA7W8_evoBykvwTMk07sujl27J0kvQ1chKpg1-CvVR9OQGin7aBpvn4qht8iSDVdtzkhdALO4wLebADe6RXILsfZYFU7s_O5iv7Lsha3/s1600/DSC03022.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH0d8qNouAqPXakl127gBO_rzuau_C37bgFsq6HA7W8_evoBykvwTMk07sujl27J0kvQ1chKpg1-CvVR9OQGin7aBpvn4qht8iSDVdtzkhdALO4wLebADe6RXILsfZYFU7s_O5iv7Lsha3/s400/DSC03022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490947284635009954" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 20pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 20pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Monday, May 10, 2010<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia;"></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 20pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">For Love of Mary!</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A tradition in Okinawa during the Month of May is the daily rosary, which takes place every morning at 5:30am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It consists in leaving your casa with every layer you have in the freezing cold as you make your way in the dark to find the gas station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And, as much fun as that sounds, I had really wanted to go every morning, but hadn’t even gone once…until one day at assembly when Sor Marta decided to talk to the students about the importance of going to the rosary.<!--StartFragment--> </span></span></p><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:.5in;margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:.5in">“Everyone is cold, everyone is tired, but you need to go! Don’t go because your friends are going, don’t go because someone makes you, rather go for Love of Mary!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right:.5in">Sor Marta definitely made me feel sufficiently sheepish and after her talk, I went in the mornings – no more excuses, all I needed to remember was who I was waking up for! :D</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right:.5in">***Rosary Reflection by Jacques Philippe, from his book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Time for God</i> (Beautiful book to read! pg. 94)</p></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“…The rosary is also a simple, poor prayer, for poor people – and who is not poor?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It has the advantage of being a prayer for all seasons: community prayer, family prayer, prayer of petition…But, at least for those who receive the grace, it can also be prayer of the heart that, very much like the Jesus Prayer, leads into mental prayer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After all, the name of Jesus is at the center of the Hail Mary.<!--StartFragment--> </span></span></i></p><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">In the rosary it is Mary who leads us into her own prayer, gives us access to the humanity of Jesus and introduces us into the mysteries of her Son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mary somehow offers us a share in her own mental prayer, surely the deepest ever.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right:.5in"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Often, when said slowly and in a spirit of recollection, the rosary can establish our hearts in communion with God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mary’s heart gives us access to Jesus’ Heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finding it difficult to be recollected and do mental prayer, I have many times had the experience of beginning the rosary and quickly reached inner peace and communion with God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Today, after a period of neglect, the rosary is being rediscovered as a valuable way of entering into grace of deep, loving prayer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is not a matter of fashion or a return to an outworn devotion, but a sign of Mary’s maternal presence, so very evident in our times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She wishes to lead the hearts of all her children back to their Father through prayer.”</i></p></span></span></i><p></p>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-35905054936029141512010-04-24T18:03:00.007-04:002010-08-06T16:35:22.175-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfU9vTfH6rwuVjlyPpaJYsvMvV0UG1iy2BfwZeJ2qjRolaDVKhna1tlOy1_1SXxnK8EMx6bRRuX8mIVUL7FymDfASYbgvnyf0qtrs35ltww_dr50N0LHp_ZFQaftzQxj5x9JVJavGfn7fd/s1600/IMG_3224.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfU9vTfH6rwuVjlyPpaJYsvMvV0UG1iy2BfwZeJ2qjRolaDVKhna1tlOy1_1SXxnK8EMx6bRRuX8mIVUL7FymDfASYbgvnyf0qtrs35ltww_dr50N0LHp_ZFQaftzQxj5x9JVJavGfn7fd/s400/IMG_3224.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463832215253317970" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><br /></span><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Saturday, April 24, 2010</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">The Hogar's Little Flower</span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span><!--StartFragment--></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">It had been a long day.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">We had trekked throughout the big city Santa Cruz, trying to get our visa papers – when finally we made our way back home.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Our home that night would be the hogar – it was too late to make it back to Oki and all I could think about was getting there ASAP to grab some chamomile tea and go to bed.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">The fatigue, heat and confusion of the day had left me near tears, but I kept telling myself we were almost there.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Upon arrival, the hogar volunteers fumbled for keys as anxious-squealing-orphan girls waited for them to open the large white metal gate.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">The squeals and laughter were clearly intended for the hogar volunteers, who live, work and play with them all day. “They won’t notice me slipping by, they hardly know me,” thinking this, the door swung open. As predicted the hogar volunteers were attacked, they couldn’t even make it through the door.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">But, I could get by and I was making a B-line straight to the kitchen for my “nightcap”.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Then, I heard a tiny boisterous voice yell, “MICHEEELLLLLE” and a little figure immerged from the dark running straight toward me.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">It was Daisy.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">I had spent extra time with her that weekend, noticing that she was alone, not always included with the other girls.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">That’s common for most children, but Daisy’s face was noticeably scared when she was a little girl in Oki from an accidental burn – so I felt she needed a little extra love.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">I had barely turned around before she leaped and jumped to give me a hug. But, this was no hug – her entire body held on for dear life, shaking as she tried to hold tighter with all her tiny might.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Clearly I wasn’t the only one who’d had a long day.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">My tears that I had kept in all day silently fell as I laughed out loud, “¡HOlA! ¿¡Como Estás mi amor!?” – this is the kind of hug the prodigal son must have received upon his arrival home, it was AMAZING! It still makes me smile! :)</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">*Daisy has her arm around Adam’s neck, our SLM director who is currently working on getting her medical care and treatment at a hospital in Boston.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">“¡Alégrense! Porque este hijo mío ha vuelto a la vida…se había perdido y lo hemos encontrado.”</span></span></span></i><span style=""><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Luke 15:32</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment-->MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-77143123472908626442010-04-03T16:02:00.017-04:002010-04-05T14:14:25.092-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9Jyxh9TpXpu4X-ogKz-pQBiFf9z42jYUcoVPUF4MeTWS_sCGN6AQ_jF8snm0GAnWkwg7dosrnhUOFQy_WGqXfHOml5or5pCCUGAKQlVCHB3__Ah77pmond-pLsLWbIUdmqhk9iRiaM6c/s1600/DSC02892.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9Jyxh9TpXpu4X-ogKz-pQBiFf9z42jYUcoVPUF4MeTWS_sCGN6AQ_jF8snm0GAnWkwg7dosrnhUOFQy_WGqXfHOml5or5pCCUGAKQlVCHB3__Ah77pmond-pLsLWbIUdmqhk9iRiaM6c/s400/DSC02892.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456016176610530018" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:"Lucida Grande";mso-bidi-Lucida Grande"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Palm Sunday, March 28, 2010</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Catalina…</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Among the various responsibilities the wee American Volunteers have and one of my favorites, is a program called “Erfa”. The goal is to educate through the 8th grade level, creating a solid foundation – in the hopes of breaking the cycle of illiteracy. The program is designed for anyone: struggling children, young adults or the elderly.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The program works by offering classes through the radio – they tune in 5 days a week for their lesson, and then complete their class work in their workbooks. We meet once a week in the parish salon to go over their homework and address any problems. Everyone is able to walk to the parish once a week, except for Catalina.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I know you’re not supposed to have favorites…but if I did, it would be Catalina! When I first met her, I was walking with the other volunteers door to door explaining what the program was, when we arrived at her house – no one was there, but a few minutes later we saw her attempting to run after us “wait! My daughter and I want to sign up and I want to learn how to write my name!” </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was a humbling. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> are going to teach her!? – a 63+ year old woman how to write her name!? But, after they were signed up we realized Catalina was unable to attend any of the classes we offered. During the day she watches some of her grandchildren (she has a total of 16!) as the parents work, while her eyesight is too poor to walk at night. So, we decided to make a little exception, meeting at her house on Monday mornings.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I love Catalina. She is eager to learn, but she is also very patient with herself. Her poor vision makes the work more difficult, but she’s always in good spirits, always laughing at her mistakes and eager to learn. One beautiful example was last Monday: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We were outside – surrounded by little baby chicks running around, while Laura and I were going over different letter shapes and vowels. As an older man passed by and observed what we were doing, he laughed shouting, “ha, your learning the alphabet!” and rode away on his bike. But, being the witty-fun-spirited grandma that she is, she smiled at me and quickly added, “Yeah, but he doesn’t know it either!” Lol, sassy grandma’s are the best! :)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">*If you’d like to help or want more information on adult illiteracy programs, the National Institute for Literacy has the following helpful link:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"> (</span></span><a href="http://www.nifl.gov/"><span style="text-decoration:none; text-underline:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">www.nifl.gov</span></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">)</span> – If you click on the “America’s Literacy Directory” you can find a program where you live. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;"><table><tbody><tr><td><p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 19px; "><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">“</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read.</span></span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">” - Mark Twain</span></span><br /></span></span></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment-->MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-37365768362625171912010-03-23T16:09:00.007-04:002010-03-23T17:46:13.352-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2w8R8nHoSGbOGs5YP3-eor_q_SMSdATxkYoFlKPCHEAM5YQ8dOtz9toVuozGpYbuT1B1fZsP5CBSAs7B7IVIW7bVRfhekkhoJHs_gz-m-sdC4M3In1zZPhWQJn5rj4imWp_HCn5LE2BOB/s1600-h/IMG_3420.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2w8R8nHoSGbOGs5YP3-eor_q_SMSdATxkYoFlKPCHEAM5YQ8dOtz9toVuozGpYbuT1B1fZsP5CBSAs7B7IVIW7bVRfhekkhoJHs_gz-m-sdC4M3In1zZPhWQJn5rj4imWp_HCn5LE2BOB/s400/IMG_3420.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451929491561913522" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Friday, March 19, 2010</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">A Wise Ruling! :)</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was yet another beautiful day of classes.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We had just finished praying the “Hail Mary” and passing out their folders, when Laura and I made the usual routine of walking around the classroom – making sure everyone was in their seats and taking away a wide arrange of random objects that they would play with during class.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We were about to start the lesson, when I saw a brand new eraser on the floor…now, most erasers that the kids have are old, rather nasty and I’m pretty sure have been chewed…but this looked brand new and beautiful.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I picked it up and inquired whom it belonged to.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I like to think my students are honest and hoped they would give me a straight answer – but as soon as I asked, three hands shot up and three voices in unison said, “It’s mine!”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">‘O really!? I looked each one in the eyes, looking for truth and asked each one again, yet they all remained firm at their claim.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had no choice but to put the eraser on the teacher’s desk, no one would get it! – that’s fair I thought.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But, I kidda felt bad.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I know even the smallest thing can mean the world to these students, and cost them an extra 10 bs. they might not have.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And, before I could turn around I decided to test them…”Ok!” I said, “If it belongs to all of you, I will simply break it so everyone can have a piece.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The two young boys grinned and laughed, “Yeah! Sounds good!”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But, the little lamb who was nestled in-between the two robbers, shouted, “Don’t! Its mine!”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Aaaa Haaa!” I exclaimed, “Its hers!” Smiling I handed the eraser over to the little girl, who looked very relieved.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The two boys on the other hand, made faces at each other while laughing.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I think I heard King Soloman laugh at his wisdom yet again proven ageless – while the rest of the class kept asking me what was so funny! :)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Cut the living child in two and give half to one and half to the other.’ The woman whose son was alive was filled with compassion for her son and said to the king, "Please, my lord, give her the living baby! Don't kill him!" But the other said, "Neither I nor you shall have him. Cut him in two!" Then the king gave his ruling: "Give the living baby to the first woman. Do not kill him; she is his mother." When all Israel heard the verdict the king had given, they held the king in awe, because they saw that he had wisdom from God to administer justice.” – </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight:bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1 Kings 3:24-28</span></span></span></i></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment-->MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-18179584697839687792010-02-20T14:07:00.016-04:002010-03-23T17:41:16.296-04:00<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 335px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-YqQP7QmvcUxWTv3O-jwOrmTBBjJS1l9JaUkkHEUU-YTF1YQ_Kzx4TEYhA_f52T8720wW0Bc3_707LSTC8eJJUQ7L9-sqK5zMT4ULa99Ci-CVIT5Oc8IFoOq_wyJoR9KUIDrkDh_sp1b/s400/P3150050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440390556337934706" /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Friday, February 19, 2010</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 26px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">¡Hola, Teacher Michelle! </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I can’t believe it, but Laura and I are about to start our 3</span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">rd</span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> week of classes this upcoming week! It’s been an adventure so far…with there being no textbooks; Laura and I decided to be creative. Traditionally, the “teacher” aka professor de Ingles or “voluntarías” spend most of their class time doing one of two things: writing on the board or asking the students to behave…these are unavoidable tasks that most teachers encounter, but we hoped to make our class a little more productive. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The first problem we wanted to address, was not having books. A good 20+ minutes or more are wasted by writing parts of the lesson and vocabulary on the board - and because they misspelled BOTH the English and Spanish, an additional 15+ minutes was needed to check all the notebooks. We had to make sure they were studying the correct information. Eeeek! So, Laura and I then concluded that having our lesson and vocabulary printed clearly on handouts would help tremendously. The school lacked the funs for this as well, but thanks to family & friends we've been able to provide the handouts and folders for the students! Thank you! :)</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And, in order to keep them in their seats, Laura and I made each student a “book” or rather a folder with their new English name, aka “Mike Ramirez”. (I had a Spanish name for 10 years, Angela Balch, so I figured they could have fun with this! Muhaa! :) Inside their “book” includes each lesson, double sided with their new vocabulary and a practice activity. As well as a double sided sheet for their “homework” or class work, which they complete in class…the concept of homework isn’t quite what it is in the States, therefore forcing them to complete the “homework” in class, forces them to WORK and if they fail to complete the small assignment, they receive a 0% - “¡lo siento!” This has helped tremendously with their behavior – of course they’re not always little lambs, but their getting there! Poco a Poco! :)</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">& while I teach, I always make sure to bring my mirth! ;)</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You must have mirth. If you do not have mirth you will certainly have madness</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.” - Chesterton</span></span><span style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Thanks for the quote Mary! :)</span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment--></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-23561014428304081272010-02-17T21:06:00.019-04:002010-12-27T05:14:28.790-04:00<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430762454941021394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbaNHmlY5sr80C6sRfDa4Y2zVoWqTmnzEA3JMNwSjqy9_wd6OJfNUmfX2drNAqqUKK8H4Ycy169dzvsbYdmAkYVz3zVLzooTZHArFIlXWP4tZVyq6XZK-uknsW1Ifa6ajryfEMQzBZweLP/s400/DSC02602.JPG" border="0" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; font-family:Georgia;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Saturday, January 16, 2010 </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">What would we do without Margaret!?</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I have to take a moment and gush about one of our fellow SLM volunteers here in Bolivia!</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Wonderful Margaret works at a Hogar (orphanage) here in Bolivia, in Santa Cruz, not too far from where I live.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Like all the volunteers here, she has hard work and a busy schedule that keeps her on her feet all day – but you can always find Margaret being kind, patient, and helpful with the children while being the older sister for her fellow SLM volunteers! :)</span></span><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">On our retreat last weekend, she shared a beautiful letter she had written to herself before she came to Bolivia to work with her girls at her orphanage – but it also served as a beautiful reminder to all of us of why we are here and who we came to serve! I’d thought I’d share…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Message from Margaret:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span></span>“</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Be not afraid...face the brokenness that is being revealed to you within your own heart. Turn to Jesus Christ that you may know the second Person of the Trinity, as you have been desiring to.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Dive deep into the relationships before you – do not be afraid to speak though you may not always have the words nor feel that you are being understood.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Deeper meaning is conveyed in your actions. Do not be afraid to be joyful, to let go of whatever it is that darkens and oppresses the heart: it is not Truth. Read Scripture – meet Christ there in His story and hold on to His life in the depths of your heart.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Pray and open your heart to God.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Be not afraid of your own wounds...If you let go of the wounds who have made you who you are, you will not cease to exist but will come into the fullness of who Christ can make you, which is more yourself than you can imagine.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Write in your journal – the smallest things will be memories to treasure when the experience has faded into “a while ago.” Have fun and revel in the experience that is an extreme privilege to participate in.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Do not be afraid, most of all, love the girls</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">-Margaret Stortz</span></span></p></span></span></span></span></div>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-13913951639353823212010-01-24T16:47:00.016-04:002010-12-27T05:13:24.078-04:00<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWWDP9tWNLd6VtsSJ0PKwiMMqBeHYQy1Ift5ujsZTkcHswTJHgML08iBR0MY5YgKqTqw2YFibabV5gnWJ_XomeekV60ocoK76-UkPQhNx8Y_TvrGOxCYSaVhfT5E89vprhstLLpWubY3V/s400/DSC02465.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439387920346940898" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">Friday, December 4, 2009</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 12px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span></span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 5px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 12px; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A little Bundle ‘O Joy – Bolivian Style! :)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-weight: bold; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-weight: bold; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 12px; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 12px; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It was Laura & My last week in Sucre, 2 days left until we returned to Okinawa, when our Host Madre finally gave birth! </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After 9+ months, she & the baby were apparently ready! Yay! :)</span></span><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">For weeks everything had been ready at the door, a little bag packed…clothes, diapers (the hospital doesn’t provide those) as well as the I-V’s needed for the c-section…yeah, the hospital doesn’t supply those either! Eeeek!* But Clauz (the host father) reassured me that it was “normal” – he explained that there was a little store across the street…so no worries! I just laughed & told him Laura & I would help with whatever was needed.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 12px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 8px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "></span></span></div></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 12px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">But, when the blessed day came we weren’t needed – only the parents.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">Our host mother was scheduled for a c-section that weekend, so everyone was ready when she went into labor early.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">And, as soon as visiting hours permitted us, we all came to visit the mommy & new wee baby!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 3px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 0px; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">O</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">ur host mother reassured us she was having a girl.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">Apparently her family only “had girls”, it was a tradition of sorts – so Laura & I brought the cutest little pink baby outfit, only of course to welcome a little baby BOY into the world! Lol…</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">Nicolas Gerd</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"> to be exact! No worries, the store happily exchanged & we bought the new parents some much</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">-needed chocolate, of course! *Sigh! :) </span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 9px; "></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 9px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">For all those new mama's & papa's out there, you're in my prayers! :D</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 0px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; line-height: 12px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In Your hand, I place my heart, body, life and soul…Yours I am, for You I was born: What do You want of me?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">” – Teresa of Avila</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 9px;"><br /></span></p>MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-63539842805895586692010-01-24T16:46:00.017-04:002020-06-03T00:27:41.526-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFsFa-RDBB290X-2AQnVhQ24JKz17zoDdUWBE7l_0d5_9SNfzHmp91dnvgwmMVACTzW_r52IXwj4gyYFY42Pn8ahUToG57jRAju2qEUu7NmfaHiqp7WaWDAxiA98Q1EvcKTld1-UMCUibb/s1600-h/232323232%7Ffp537%3C9%3Enu=335-%3E5%3C;%3E76;%3EWSNRCG=338;7555%3C9336nu0mrj.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430794728251437602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFsFa-RDBB290X-2AQnVhQ24JKz17zoDdUWBE7l_0d5_9SNfzHmp91dnvgwmMVACTzW_r52IXwj4gyYFY42Pn8ahUToG57jRAju2qEUu7NmfaHiqp7WaWDAxiA98Q1EvcKTld1-UMCUibb/s400/232323232%7Ffp537%3C9%3Enu=335-%3E5%3C;%3E76;%3EWSNRCG=338;7555%3C9336nu0mrj.jpeg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thursday, November 26, 2009</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">We almost died…it was that good! </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Thanksgiving is one of those American holidays that one ought not to neglect and so when our host family asked us to share one of our ‘American dishes’ we decided to go all out! But, this being Laura and my first time cooking a turkey with all the fixings, in a 3</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">rd</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> world country, limited supplies, and a rickety old gas oven, it made for quite the adventure! :)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It was approaching 3am when Laura & I were in the backyard with a bloody turkey, hosing it off, that we realized we might not make it to school that morning.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We thought it would be clever to speed up the thawing process by placing it on kitchen floor for 15+ hrs - in the dead of summer - apparently that’s a big no, no! But being the determined young ladies that we are (not stubborn ;) we "Googled" ways of decontaminating the potential seminela & found soaking the bird in a bucket of water, with bags of salt as it refrigerated - would be our only hope.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">& Being the imaginative creature that I am, I envisioned my entire Bolivian family, including my host madre (who was 9 months pregnant) getting supper sick and going to the hospital – But of course no such thing happened, clearly God looks after lil lamb and all my silliness! :)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When we took the bird out of the lil oven, Margarita (the family’s kitchen helper) had never seen a real turkey before, only on the ‘television’ – so this was a particular treat for her! :)</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">& not only was it a huge success, but my host family wanted to eat the leftovers that night, only a few hours after we had cleared the table! My host padre later commented that he had eaten so much, he wasn’t sure if it was safe for his stomach! Lol, haha welcome to Thanksgiving! :D</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps our strategy wasn't as "beautiful" as we would have liked, but the results were pretty delicious! :)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">However beautiful the strategy, you should occasionally look at the result</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">s." - Sir Winston Churchill</span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-90552648541976593112010-01-24T16:45:00.017-04:002020-06-03T00:28:09.928-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Dm65acC-CS3ksjNAPf7zCn-B7Q7axuYsfM2C5UCL8sfi8Ob6PYU-KTz2TJppRpGHQHOglCYY6Sjeb6SJCNGzPZeOfFaXlWmsIZHyDTBgiBea5OYJH2aOU25WAS9la6aHsSIagWWCmmPK/s1600/DSC02609.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555287104766718690" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Dm65acC-CS3ksjNAPf7zCn-B7Q7axuYsfM2C5UCL8sfi8Ob6PYU-KTz2TJppRpGHQHOglCYY6Sjeb6SJCNGzPZeOfFaXlWmsIZHyDTBgiBea5OYJH2aOU25WAS9la6aHsSIagWWCmmPK/s400/DSC02609.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Friday, September 4, 2009</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">My favorite memory so far in Bolivia!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: +0;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">By now, I have a thousand wonderful, amazing, and sweet memories of Bolivia already. But one of my favorites and one I already cherish, happened my first week here in Bolivia.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A little friend came to live in my tummy (E. Hystolica) not one of the friendlier parasites, but it was God’s way of getting my feet wet! :)</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Many of the volunteers had arrived and had gathered at the Hogar (orphanage) 45+ minutes from where I live, to celebrated some of the volunteer’s birthdays.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But I was in one of the volunteer's bedrooms wrapped in a wool blanket, in a dark room, wondering what God’s plan was for this could be…I was tired, confused, and feeling sorry for myself, when the door opened to my room and light from the hallway filled the darkness.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It was Jenna!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> :)</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">She was just checking up on me to see how I was doing, noticing I was wrapped in a wool blanket in 31 Celsius, concluded I must have a fever and promptly got me a wet handkerchief. As she handed it to me she asked what else she could do, but I responded, "I’m good" – But she was persistent, ‘no really what can I do to serve you!?’ Taken aback at her genuine desire to help me I again respond, ‘O but Jenna, really you got me a handkerchief, really I’m good.’</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But this just wouldn’t do for poor Jenna, she just had to give – (its part of her love language) – and she came over to the side of my bed and took my hand and said, ‘no, Michelle, let me suffer with you!’</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">& for a moment all the pain was gone, I didn’t notice the fever or the chills, and all my doubt and worry went away…Jenna was Christ sitting on the edge of my bed, letting me know it was going to be alright, and that no pain or worry was too small for God to notice.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I sat up in bed and gave Jenna a big HUG and told her that God was working through her in ways that she didn't know...</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And as she left the room, she asked, ‘O, I have the rosary on my computer if you’d like to listen to it?’ I laughed, I had tried for the last 20 minutes to say the rosary, but was only able to get through the creed & the first Our Father...Usually my source of consolation I had been unable to say it, (but God knew this as well)...and in a few minutes a Gregorian chant was singing me the rosary and I was curled up in a ball, very content & happier than ever – telling God that there was no where else in the world I’d rather be! :)</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Thank you Jenna & all the other volunteers who are always so kind and amazing to me all the time! :D</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Surely if I become a saint, I will be one of darkness – continually absence from Heaven to be the light for those here in darknes</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">s…” Mother Teresa (or Jenna! :)</span></div>
MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267988853459082211.post-31592897919014850242009-09-25T18:55:00.024-04:002020-06-03T00:28:23.473-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOe0QCoBa2ZryIiTeKTHNmex6AY7yWl9v_1u-ocW1Y_St_Y6y18CFVgdi4mPxvYQidwfOQ9jqHMK_kPUTpSvFjm1_aKvw5M4ue4A9Ny5wG5tHCnXD-WuFrjvvSmnsJ7UYgKSTkXmJhYcDK/s1600-h/DSC02080.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430778915637323618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOe0QCoBa2ZryIiTeKTHNmex6AY7yWl9v_1u-ocW1Y_St_Y6y18CFVgdi4mPxvYQidwfOQ9jqHMK_kPUTpSvFjm1_aKvw5M4ue4A9Ny5wG5tHCnXD-WuFrjvvSmnsJ7UYgKSTkXmJhYcDK/s400/DSC02080.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";">Sunday, August 23, 2009</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia";">¡Hola</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia";">, Hola! I’m in OKINAWA!!!</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My 6 months of "training" commenced as soon as I arrived Wednesday night & I’ve been running around ever since! Until we take over in February, I'll be shadowing the other volunteers here, learning about the different communities we'll be serving, watching classes, leaning how to drive stick on these crazy dirt roads & of course learning Spanish! :) I ‘ve gone to the Japanese school and watched Gene (another missionary) help the students, went to the local communities, helped another volunteer teach catechism, and I’ve met the “internas” or the boarding school girls, all the sisters, and some of the locals – all of which are really nice and supper welcoming! :)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />There is no school on the weekends, so one of the locals invited the SLMs to visit her husband while they harvested wheat, allowing us the drive the machine & eat coca leafs with him (By the way, not recommended! Its like chewing bitter green tea leaves, my Melon Breeze Orbit gum is a little tastier ;) and visited her brother’s farm were we ate supper delicious fruit! One in particular didn't have a name, its a hybrid of a lime, a grapefruit, and an orange, so it looks like a large lime, but it has ALL those flavors, SO good! :D ¡Que Fantastica! </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Next week, I go to Santa Cruz - the main city - for my permanent visia and I get to see the other missionaries I met in New York for orientation! :) </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia";">Your Very Happy,</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "georgia";">Lil Lamb :D</span></span></span></div>
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MissBalch :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16535549300743483600noreply@blogger.com