Tuesday, March 29, 2005


"What always happens," she said. "You have a hard, terrible winter; then it ends."
by Frederick Busch

How is the weather where you are?

The past two weeks have been hot, the hottest since I arrived, with the thermostat reaching past 90. With this heat (though, perhaps, not because of it) a sense of anxiousness has arrived. No, not quite anxiousness, I am just not sure what it is.

Last night, sitting at a dinner table in my hogar, one of the Tías set down a plate of food in front of me and told me it was for another Tía. In other words, or really without words, that I was not welcome to sit there. Why? We don´t have assigned seats, no one had been sitting there before me, I had sat there on other nights. I didn´t ask. I have learned that the answers to these questions aren´t worth hearing.

It had been a long day at school, at hogar one of the kids had thrown my eyeglasses on the ground, and another had pinched me. I just couldn´t handle anything more. And so I left. I got up without saying a word, grabbed my lousy dinner (a spoonfull of greenish scrambled eggs, a dab of cold beans, and a cotton-ball-sized hunk of cheese) and went to my room, holding back tears all the way.

Besides being hot, this is how my past two weeks have been. Small things representing big problems, overwhelming problems, ones I cannot solve. I am realizing that the biggest lessons I will learn this year aren´t about speaking Spanish and working with kids. This year is about learning how to fail, how to be humble.

It sounds so romantic, "I am volunteering at an orphanage in Honduras, teaching struggling kids." All of us volunteers came with some kind of light in our eyes--be they stars or city lights or the glowing end of a cigarette. Whether we admit it or not, we were all hoping for a few Dead Poet´s Society moments. They´re not going to happen, these moments. I might make a difference here--I hope I do--but I will likely never know it. My life here is the opposite of romantic and, lately, not very rewarding.

If I were in Wisconsin, I would be waiting for the warmer air and icy daffodils of spring. Here, on the Ranch, we are waiting for the rain. We are waiting for relief. And I am waiting for my winter to end.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

One of my Professors once told me that life is sometimes like looking for a clear radio station, you have to pass thorugh some static to get to the music.

You'll get through the static, I know you will.

11:46 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I wish I could be there to have a chat with that Tia!!!! - I am very proud of you Amelia and love you and know you can rise above the fracas of humanity because "you know where you are going and if anyone wants to follow you, you will be glad to show them the way"

1:05 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

About 62 F and mostly cloudy. Expect 40 - 60% chance of thunder storms Thursday 31st and Friday the first, followed by a bright and sunny Sunday to cheer me up again.


update: more thunderstorms expected next week. sigh.

9:15 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love when you say you are learning to fail and learning to be humble. Both are powerful lessons and your path through life will be much more satisfying if you are in the process of learning those qualities (because you are never done learning them). Be open to the other lessons coming your way. Some you may not realize until much later, but you will realize them. Life is a present, and you are busy untying the ribbons. Enjoy the gift inside!!

5:20 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The Lord...will satisfy your needs in a sun -scorched land....You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Isaiah 58:11 NIV

The love of the Father is like a sudden rain shower that will pour forth when you least expect it, catching you up into wonder and praise.
Richard Foster

I pray God pours His blessings on you today!

1:53 PM  

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