Merry Christmas from all of us at Farm of the Child! Wishing you and yours a most blessed Christmas and joyous New Year.
12.08.2009
Roasted Marshmallows on the Caribbean
My heart hurts as it overflows with gratitude. The last week and a half has given me the opportunity to celebrate the Day of Thanks (preparing mountains of food to thank all those that collaborate with us in Trujillo) and to take leave of all my little Finca brothers and sisters. Spending a total of a week on-site, I have had the opportunity to swim in the ocean, climb up and through rocks to mountain pools, eat beans and guineos with little children and say “I love you” an almost inordinate number of times.
As we eleven departing volunteers half-circled the monstrance in adoration last Thursday night, I wept from the depths of my soul as each of our children knelt behind and blessed us. In my mind’s eye, I saw each of them as the little children they had been exactly three years prior. I heard my voice from three years ago (when I was new volunteer) stating, “Wow! These departing volunteers have given their hearts to these children. I can’t imagine what that feels like!” Now, three years later, I know what it feels like and I wonder how I blinked my eyes so quickly. During that Holy Hour, the primary emotion that flowed out of my eyes was that of gratitude, gratitude for all the grace that God has gifted: graces to be joyful and sorrowful, to grow and to be broken.
I reflect with you on the last three years, thanking you for being a part of this experience.
What I have lost…
All my original Finca clothes to mold
Healthy skin to the hot, hot sun.All graceful movements to the rocky roads and tree roots
The ability to naively trust others to those who’ve taken advantage of me and/or the children.
A sense of personal space to the Santa Fe bus.
My camera, jeans and some odd number of lempiras to different thieves.
Any affinity toward ants to the welts they’ve imparted to my ankles.
Healthy arteries to the wonders of manteca.
Some unrealistic optimism, to be replaced with idealistic realism.
What I have learned…
How to clean a head chock-full of lice.
That I am VERY very small.
How to use a machete.
That I do not like to dance Punta or listen to reggaeton.
That anything that frustrates me about others is a reflection of frustrations with myself.
That I am grateful to the women of the 1900’s that taught U.S. men that whistling and cat-calling are not appropriate greetings.
That making up Spanish words is functional in Honduras
That love is washing a sick friend’s vomit-covered sheets in the middle of the night.
How to cook from scratch for 30 people.
That a few days without electricity or water is no biggie…more than a few and people get testy.
That I need others.
How to give, to receive, to forgive and to ask for forgiveness.
That I can be a parent, but I will forever be a child.
How to confront problems of rats, bats, snakes, scorpions, cockroaches and tarantulas.
No matter how many times a child convinces you that nances are good, do NOT listen.
That hitchhiking on a muddy road in the middle of nowhere can be normal.
What I (will) treasure..
A child learning how to read through participating in Laudes.
Being lulled to sleep by the lapping Caribbean waves.
Drinking straight from the coconut.
Slapping out tortillas over a hot fire.
Off-key choruses sung in the chapel.
The scars on my leg from House 2’s “friendly dog “Winnie Puh”
Walking/Running on the beach.
A community of people always willing to give/get a back-scratch.
Laughing so hard I cry and coming out of sobbing through laughter.
Being SO close to the earth that I cannot scrub it out of my skin.
Running into the ocean or rivers fully clothed.
Hearing “Ana Banana” shouted across the soccer field.
My last dip in the Carribbean, under a star-filled sky and enjoying the campfire-roasted marshmallows Julitza brought out to be eaten while floating under the moon.
Doing sit-ups with Franciscan sisters.
Little children snuggling into my smelliness and falling asleep.
What I am excited for…
Clean bathrooms and being able to flush toilet paper
Running trails free of cat-calling, whistling men
Yogurt, granola, salsa, apples, cheese, salsa, good coffee, salsa and everything bagels
Free purified water and showering in hot water
Fireplaces, carpets, warm blankets and sweaters
Available forms of communication
Good customer service
A real pine Christmas tree and celebrating the season with my family
Being present and able to thank all those who mean so very much to me in the States.
THANK YOU to each of you for your love and support in the last few years. As we approach this holiday of peace and joy, please continue to remember the needs of our little ones. I encourage you to consider continuing to support the Farm of the Child, an impressive example of the Body of Christ incarnate. Each donation is used well by people very conscious of the importance of being good stewards of every cent given.
If you are interested, please refer to www.farmofthechild.org/donate.php or send a check made out to Farm of the Child to:
As we eleven departing volunteers half-circled the monstrance in adoration last Thursday night, I wept from the depths of my soul as each of our children knelt behind and blessed us. In my mind’s eye, I saw each of them as the little children they had been exactly three years prior. I heard my voice from three years ago (when I was new volunteer) stating, “Wow! These departing volunteers have given their hearts to these children. I can’t imagine what that feels like!” Now, three years later, I know what it feels like and I wonder how I blinked my eyes so quickly. During that Holy Hour, the primary emotion that flowed out of my eyes was that of gratitude, gratitude for all the grace that God has gifted: graces to be joyful and sorrowful, to grow and to be broken.
I reflect with you on the last three years, thanking you for being a part of this experience.
What I have lost…
All my original Finca clothes to mold
Healthy skin to the hot, hot sun.All graceful movements to the rocky roads and tree roots
The ability to naively trust others to those who’ve taken advantage of me and/or the children.
A sense of personal space to the Santa Fe bus.
My camera, jeans and some odd number of lempiras to different thieves.
Any affinity toward ants to the welts they’ve imparted to my ankles.
Healthy arteries to the wonders of manteca.
Some unrealistic optimism, to be replaced with idealistic realism.
What I have learned…
How to clean a head chock-full of lice.
That I am VERY very small.
How to use a machete.
That I do not like to dance Punta or listen to reggaeton.
That anything that frustrates me about others is a reflection of frustrations with myself.
That I am grateful to the women of the 1900’s that taught U.S. men that whistling and cat-calling are not appropriate greetings.
That making up Spanish words is functional in Honduras
That love is washing a sick friend’s vomit-covered sheets in the middle of the night.
How to cook from scratch for 30 people.
That a few days without electricity or water is no biggie…more than a few and people get testy.
That I need others.
How to give, to receive, to forgive and to ask for forgiveness.
That I can be a parent, but I will forever be a child.
How to confront problems of rats, bats, snakes, scorpions, cockroaches and tarantulas.
No matter how many times a child convinces you that nances are good, do NOT listen.
That hitchhiking on a muddy road in the middle of nowhere can be normal.
What I (will) treasure..
A child learning how to read through participating in Laudes.
Being lulled to sleep by the lapping Caribbean waves.
Drinking straight from the coconut.
Slapping out tortillas over a hot fire.
Off-key choruses sung in the chapel.
The scars on my leg from House 2’s “friendly dog “Winnie Puh”
Walking/Running on the beach.
A community of people always willing to give/get a back-scratch.
Laughing so hard I cry and coming out of sobbing through laughter.
Being SO close to the earth that I cannot scrub it out of my skin.
Running into the ocean or rivers fully clothed.
Hearing “Ana Banana” shouted across the soccer field.
My last dip in the Carribbean, under a star-filled sky and enjoying the campfire-roasted marshmallows Julitza brought out to be eaten while floating under the moon.
Doing sit-ups with Franciscan sisters.
Little children snuggling into my smelliness and falling asleep.
What I am excited for…
Clean bathrooms and being able to flush toilet paper
Running trails free of cat-calling, whistling men
Yogurt, granola, salsa, apples, cheese, salsa, good coffee, salsa and everything bagels
Free purified water and showering in hot water
Fireplaces, carpets, warm blankets and sweaters
Available forms of communication
Good customer service
A real pine Christmas tree and celebrating the season with my family
Being present and able to thank all those who mean so very much to me in the States.
THANK YOU to each of you for your love and support in the last few years. As we approach this holiday of peace and joy, please continue to remember the needs of our little ones. I encourage you to consider continuing to support the Farm of the Child, an impressive example of the Body of Christ incarnate. Each donation is used well by people very conscious of the importance of being good stewards of every cent given.
If you are interested, please refer to www.farmofthechild.org/donate.php or send a check made out to Farm of the Child to:
Farm of the Child
1616 Nottingham Knoll Drive
Jacksonville, FL 32225
In hope and with much love,
Anne Klinkhammer
annabellelee17@yahoo.com
1616 Nottingham Knoll Drive
Jacksonville, FL 32225
In hope and with much love,
Anne Klinkhammer
annabellelee17@yahoo.com
11.23.2009
Check out our Holiday Newsletter
Farm of the Child's Holiday Newsletter is now available online at www.farmofthechild.org/scrapbook_newletter.php. Check it out now!!
11.17.2009
Graduation Reflections
The first weekend of November, we celebrated the graduation of Isabel and Enma. Last Friday, we celebrated Joel’s graduation. On Sunday, we took time as an adolescent community to celebrate the lives of all three as we paused for a moment of Despedida, Good-bye.
It is a time of transition at the Finca and this year’s shifting brings with it the departure of three of our finest children. Experiencing this change with them has been one of the greatest blessings of my time as volunteer. It has allowed us to witness the living example of the fruit of Enma and Isa’s nourishment in their years at the Finca. As they presented the gifts of bread and wine in their graduation Mass, they demonstrated how being nourished at the Finca has allowed them to recognize their own gifts and choose to use them as an offering to God and to their community. We have witnessed the various manners in which the Finca has allowed Joel to develop his entire self. Singing with his classmates, reading with confidence from the lectern and playing host to guests at his party, Joel’s developed character shone on his graduation day.
Most touching, however was the witnessing of the Finca mission which became tangible in our community despedida (farewell) to these three. The moment had me asking, “How many people have invested in each one of the three?” “How many times has a volunteer asked, ‘Why am I here?’” “How many teachers have wondered whether they were making any strides in educating their Finca students to be people of good character, not just smart brains?” “How many house parents have wondered whether the consequence they were giving Enma or Joel or Isa might have the effect of cultivating a particular virtue?” How I wished all those who have asked and will ask these questions could have been present Sunday night. As a candle passed around the room, each of us named the individual qualities we admire in Enma, Isa and Joel, causing tears in the eyes of our departing adolescents. When the community finished affirming them, each of the three took advantage of the moment to return the favor and thank the Finca (that is, each person who has supported them through presence, action, donations and prayer) for the opportunity to become and for the support that has allowed them to develop into their best selves. Their words of thanks to others in a moment dedicated to celebrating their many accomplishments was a great example of the Finca mission. Even our adolescents live “en gratitud por el gran amor que Jesucristo nos da” (in gratitude for the great love Jesus Christ gives us).
Thinking about the lives of each of the three continues to humble me. As children, each faced a difficult life situation. Each was graced to find his/her way into the Finca family, yet now, it is we that look at them with whispers of gracias. Thank you, Joel. Thank you, Isabel. Thank you, Enma. Thank you for being the living examples that God is alive and works through us in this project. Only He could qualify all those whom He has called to this project, performing His miracles in the lives of our Honduran children.
It is a time of transition at the Finca and this year’s shifting brings with it the departure of three of our finest children. Experiencing this change with them has been one of the greatest blessings of my time as volunteer. It has allowed us to witness the living example of the fruit of Enma and Isa’s nourishment in their years at the Finca. As they presented the gifts of bread and wine in their graduation Mass, they demonstrated how being nourished at the Finca has allowed them to recognize their own gifts and choose to use them as an offering to God and to their community. We have witnessed the various manners in which the Finca has allowed Joel to develop his entire self. Singing with his classmates, reading with confidence from the lectern and playing host to guests at his party, Joel’s developed character shone on his graduation day.
Most touching, however was the witnessing of the Finca mission which became tangible in our community despedida (farewell) to these three. The moment had me asking, “How many people have invested in each one of the three?” “How many times has a volunteer asked, ‘Why am I here?’” “How many teachers have wondered whether they were making any strides in educating their Finca students to be people of good character, not just smart brains?” “How many house parents have wondered whether the consequence they were giving Enma or Joel or Isa might have the effect of cultivating a particular virtue?” How I wished all those who have asked and will ask these questions could have been present Sunday night. As a candle passed around the room, each of us named the individual qualities we admire in Enma, Isa and Joel, causing tears in the eyes of our departing adolescents. When the community finished affirming them, each of the three took advantage of the moment to return the favor and thank the Finca (that is, each person who has supported them through presence, action, donations and prayer) for the opportunity to become and for the support that has allowed them to develop into their best selves. Their words of thanks to others in a moment dedicated to celebrating their many accomplishments was a great example of the Finca mission. Even our adolescents live “en gratitud por el gran amor que Jesucristo nos da” (in gratitude for the great love Jesus Christ gives us).
Thinking about the lives of each of the three continues to humble me. As children, each faced a difficult life situation. Each was graced to find his/her way into the Finca family, yet now, it is we that look at them with whispers of gracias. Thank you, Joel. Thank you, Isabel. Thank you, Enma. Thank you for being the living examples that God is alive and works through us in this project. Only He could qualify all those whom He has called to this project, performing His miracles in the lives of our Honduran children.
Anne Klinkhammer
annabellelee17@yahoo.com
annabellelee17@yahoo.com
11.11.2009
Order your Christmas Cards NOW!
As a gift to our supporters, Farm of the Child offers exclusive, original Christmas Cards designed by Wyoming artist, Kathy Turner. Share the Farm of the Child with your family and friends this Christmas and order your complimentary cards now, while supplies last.
11.06.2009
Here I am, pen in hand
Here I am, pen in hand
with paper anxiously waiting
for the quill’s fine point
to scratch across its skin.
Once again, it asks,
“What will you say to me today?
What will you tell me?”
The pen takes life in my hand
and I begin to write…
What I relate-I say to the pen-
is a very important chapter in my life.
I could make something up,
fooling even myself,
but to my own life, I must be true.
I am young still,
but to relate what I must tell you
demands a return to my infancy.
Let me return to years past
so that you understand, how I arrived
in the bosom of this great family.
In this manner I began to relate my life.
I say to the pen- It was many years ago
but my memories remain intact
as though it all happened yesterday…
I was born in Olanchito, in mountains of green pines.
I had a mother…
And when I was nine, I had a father for two short months.
He’s always been my father,
but never been FATHER.
As many in Honduras, my mother suffered the consequences of being a single mother.
She had six children and simultaneously was mother and father.
Maybe this explains her absence at home
and my living alone with two older brothers.
I have never said “mom” or “dad”
Because in my family, MOTHER was my grandmother and Martha was mother.
Did we attend school there?
Yes, I remember being forced to go
as my grandmother was raised by the old
“Stubbornness is treated with a stick”
About 1998 my grandmother dies.
She dies of cancer-I don’t know where-I was a child.
Two years later, my mother becomes sick and is bed-ridden.
Every day I would get up,
and walk half an hour to bring home the milk.
My other brothers roamed around
going to the market or hanging out in the streets.
My eldest brother smoked.
At twelve, he would enter discos
and shine shoes.
Our friends were gangsters,
thugs, people of the street
who now are in the cemetery.
In 1999, a North American appeared in our house,
proposing that we go to a “farm of the child.”
My first thought was that there must be bananas there,
or children that grew bananas.
At the end of ’99, I lost my mother.
How I wish that she were here today
and could see my accomplishments.
She lives and will always live in my memory,
soul, heart and mind.
In 2000, we arrived at the Farm.
I still remember the frustrated face we each had.
I still had not realized that the Farm of the Child
was a mother sent by God
to replace the vacancy in my heart.
God saved me and gave me His hand.
All my friends in Olanchito are dead.
They became gangsters.
They took the wrong path and lost.
Poor guys, they didn’t have a hand to guide them,
or maybe they did, but were too late in realizing.
When I arrived at the Finca, I was a rebel,
not to the same extent as my brothers,
but each of us fought and wanted to be in charge.
I didn’t understand when my mother became sick,
I, who slept by her side and brought her the juice
I’d earned throwing out trash at the fast food joint.
There were times when my brother would find me out and rob me of my food.
My mother, upon becoming ill,
would kneel and stay near her bed in silence.
And I? I was filled with fear.
Only now do I understand that she was praying.
I was at my grandmother’s side
when she departed this world.
I was there when my mother died
and left never to return again.
I only have three things to say:
Thanks to God.
Thanks to the Farm of the Child.
Thanks to all who make possible this work of mercy.
Yes, I am grateful to this great community that is my family
because it is my second mother,
because it scooped me into its arms
and gave to me its entire heart.
Thank you
For being in the night of my life…
A Star.
And with a sigh of triumph,
a flash of lightning on the paper
and the pen ceased,
limiting itself to sign: by Joel Álvarez.
with paper anxiously waiting
for the quill’s fine point
to scratch across its skin.
Once again, it asks,
“What will you say to me today?
What will you tell me?”
The pen takes life in my hand
and I begin to write…
What I relate-I say to the pen-
is a very important chapter in my life.
I could make something up,
fooling even myself,
but to my own life, I must be true.
I am young still,
but to relate what I must tell you
demands a return to my infancy.
Let me return to years past
so that you understand, how I arrived
in the bosom of this great family.
In this manner I began to relate my life.
I say to the pen- It was many years ago
but my memories remain intact
as though it all happened yesterday…
I was born in Olanchito, in mountains of green pines.
I had a mother…
And when I was nine, I had a father for two short months.
He’s always been my father,
but never been FATHER.
As many in Honduras, my mother suffered the consequences of being a single mother.
She had six children and simultaneously was mother and father.
Maybe this explains her absence at home
and my living alone with two older brothers.
I have never said “mom” or “dad”
Because in my family, MOTHER was my grandmother and Martha was mother.
Did we attend school there?
Yes, I remember being forced to go
as my grandmother was raised by the old
“Stubbornness is treated with a stick”
About 1998 my grandmother dies.
She dies of cancer-I don’t know where-I was a child.
Two years later, my mother becomes sick and is bed-ridden.
Every day I would get up,
and walk half an hour to bring home the milk.
My other brothers roamed around
going to the market or hanging out in the streets.
My eldest brother smoked.
At twelve, he would enter discos
and shine shoes.
Our friends were gangsters,
thugs, people of the street
who now are in the cemetery.
In 1999, a North American appeared in our house,
proposing that we go to a “farm of the child.”
My first thought was that there must be bananas there,
or children that grew bananas.
At the end of ’99, I lost my mother.
How I wish that she were here today
and could see my accomplishments.
She lives and will always live in my memory,
soul, heart and mind.
In 2000, we arrived at the Farm.
I still remember the frustrated face we each had.
I still had not realized that the Farm of the Child
was a mother sent by God
to replace the vacancy in my heart.
God saved me and gave me His hand.
All my friends in Olanchito are dead.
They became gangsters.
They took the wrong path and lost.
Poor guys, they didn’t have a hand to guide them,
or maybe they did, but were too late in realizing.
When I arrived at the Finca, I was a rebel,
not to the same extent as my brothers,
but each of us fought and wanted to be in charge.
I didn’t understand when my mother became sick,
I, who slept by her side and brought her the juice
I’d earned throwing out trash at the fast food joint.
There were times when my brother would find me out and rob me of my food.
My mother, upon becoming ill,
would kneel and stay near her bed in silence.
And I? I was filled with fear.
Only now do I understand that she was praying.
I was at my grandmother’s side
when she departed this world.
I was there when my mother died
and left never to return again.
I only have three things to say:
Thanks to God.
Thanks to the Farm of the Child.
Thanks to all who make possible this work of mercy.
Yes, I am grateful to this great community that is my family
because it is my second mother,
because it scooped me into its arms
and gave to me its entire heart.
Thank you
For being in the night of my life…
A Star.
And with a sigh of triumph,
a flash of lightning on the paper
and the pen ceased,
limiting itself to sign: by Joel Álvarez.
Rainy Days at Finca del Nino
Some of my earliest, most joyous moments were spent in front of the television while dawn broke over a mid-winter sky. The local news was playing on the television, but that was not what held my attention. At the absolute lowest point of the screen was a small stripe across which would flash the names of all schools in Eastern Massachusetts closed for that day. There were always three options into which my young and already spiritually filled mind would classify the results for Norfolk Public Schools. Heaven, or all classes canceled, meant a day of sledding, popcorn, hot chocolate and whatever was playing on TNT at noon. Purgatory, or 1-2 hour delay, meant that yes we would still suffer through school but at least not quite as much; plus I could sleep in for another hour. However, more often then not I would not read my school's name across the screen, meaning that we were absolutely the only students in all of New England forced to unjustly attend school on what should be a snow day. I have thought often of these ancient feelings when I see our own children's faces light up in the event of a school cancellation. Classes have been canceled this year for a wide variety of reasons (earthquakes, presidential coups, unruly rivers), and as upset as I am in forfeiting an opportunity to enrich these young, impressionable minds, “snow” days are often an opportunity to spend time with the kids outside of school, which is never a bad thing.
Lots of craziness going on in the Farm around this time of year, when the new volunteers hop into the fray and use up all the clothes lines. We have been especially lucky with this new class coming in, as they bring with them some amazing Spanish skills and more enthusiasm than previously thought possible. Allow me to run down the line of departments as we all begin our transition for the upcoming year.
The incomparable social work team has added Sheena and Francesca. Whether it's searching for houseparents, handing out consequences, covering houses or just spending time and making their houses feel loved, I am positive that they will follow the example that Annie has left for them and Sara will continue in her new role as leader of all things social work.
In the clinic the motto is “if it ain't broke, don't fix it” as Beth continues all of her sterling work in helping our neighbors suffering from infirmities and reaching out to preach healthy living habits. Jenny leaves behind a lasting legacy and looks forward to a future as bright as the California skyline.
The lovely Jennie Maria will be venturing along with another one of our new volunteers Sayda to the golden city of Ceiba. There she will have the always exciting and never boring task of caring for our oldest boys. The innumerable tasks of treasury will fall upon the shoulders of young Alisha, who has already shown a strong ability to care for our souls and our finances.
Laura, who has given an incredible amount of her time and love both to our neighbors (who absolutely adore her) and to us at the school when asked to help, will also be moving on. Kristina has already made her presence felt at women's group and other opportunities to integrate herself with our neighboring community.
Our own personal Lebron James is still absolutely working out of his mind to improve the Farm in whatever way possible. From days spent fixing power lines in driving rainstorms to putting up a fence that will improve security to spending time in work hours with our lovely children to dealing with some of the frustrations that come with working in this kind of environment. On top of all that, Nate has found himself in the spotlight recently, putting in a guest interview at nationally syndicated Cartalk of National Public Radio. I believe it will air around Halloween weekend so be sure to check it out. His enormous shoes will be filled by our beloved Ted, who has already shown the fortitude and enthusiasm essential for a director of maintenance.
Finally, an era comes to an end as two of my beloved jefas step down from their thrones and join us mortals once again. Although Liz has passed on her sub-director duties to Peter she is still aiding in whatever way she can: covering houses, baking cookies and generally being the jolliest gluten-free person I know. In addition, Mrs. Conroy has passed the torch of the school onto the fiery red-headed Elizabeth Quinn, as she and Chris spend their last few weeks at the school gracing us all with their presence. In all seriousness, these two have helped me out in more ways than I could possibly list and all of my best moments here at the farm have been spent in their company. You guys mean the world to me and the place won't be the same without you. Ryan, Kate and Erin will keep on rocking in the primary while Keenan joins the big leagues, also known as the Colegio. I look forward to the fun-filled office nights of planning, music and conversing like only someone up at 1am on a school night can.
Finally, I would like to give lots of hugs to our dear friend Lizzy. We all love and miss you more than I can describe in a rambling, nonsensical letter. You're the best.
Anyways that's all I got for now. This is Dan O'Shea saying take care, God bless and don't let the man get you down.
Lots of craziness going on in the Farm around this time of year, when the new volunteers hop into the fray and use up all the clothes lines. We have been especially lucky with this new class coming in, as they bring with them some amazing Spanish skills and more enthusiasm than previously thought possible. Allow me to run down the line of departments as we all begin our transition for the upcoming year.
The incomparable social work team has added Sheena and Francesca. Whether it's searching for houseparents, handing out consequences, covering houses or just spending time and making their houses feel loved, I am positive that they will follow the example that Annie has left for them and Sara will continue in her new role as leader of all things social work.
In the clinic the motto is “if it ain't broke, don't fix it” as Beth continues all of her sterling work in helping our neighbors suffering from infirmities and reaching out to preach healthy living habits. Jenny leaves behind a lasting legacy and looks forward to a future as bright as the California skyline.
The lovely Jennie Maria will be venturing along with another one of our new volunteers Sayda to the golden city of Ceiba. There she will have the always exciting and never boring task of caring for our oldest boys. The innumerable tasks of treasury will fall upon the shoulders of young Alisha, who has already shown a strong ability to care for our souls and our finances.
Laura, who has given an incredible amount of her time and love both to our neighbors (who absolutely adore her) and to us at the school when asked to help, will also be moving on. Kristina has already made her presence felt at women's group and other opportunities to integrate herself with our neighboring community.
Our own personal Lebron James is still absolutely working out of his mind to improve the Farm in whatever way possible. From days spent fixing power lines in driving rainstorms to putting up a fence that will improve security to spending time in work hours with our lovely children to dealing with some of the frustrations that come with working in this kind of environment. On top of all that, Nate has found himself in the spotlight recently, putting in a guest interview at nationally syndicated Cartalk of National Public Radio. I believe it will air around Halloween weekend so be sure to check it out. His enormous shoes will be filled by our beloved Ted, who has already shown the fortitude and enthusiasm essential for a director of maintenance.
Finally, an era comes to an end as two of my beloved jefas step down from their thrones and join us mortals once again. Although Liz has passed on her sub-director duties to Peter she is still aiding in whatever way she can: covering houses, baking cookies and generally being the jolliest gluten-free person I know. In addition, Mrs. Conroy has passed the torch of the school onto the fiery red-headed Elizabeth Quinn, as she and Chris spend their last few weeks at the school gracing us all with their presence. In all seriousness, these two have helped me out in more ways than I could possibly list and all of my best moments here at the farm have been spent in their company. You guys mean the world to me and the place won't be the same without you. Ryan, Kate and Erin will keep on rocking in the primary while Keenan joins the big leagues, also known as the Colegio. I look forward to the fun-filled office nights of planning, music and conversing like only someone up at 1am on a school night can.
Finally, I would like to give lots of hugs to our dear friend Lizzy. We all love and miss you more than I can describe in a rambling, nonsensical letter. You're the best.
Anyways that's all I got for now. This is Dan O'Shea saying take care, God bless and don't let the man get you down.
Dan O'Shea
A Walk at the Finca
Just recently I finished reading a book by Bill Bryson called A Walk in the Woods. It’s a travel narrative about his hiking of the Appalachian Trail, the 2,100+ mile wilderness trail that runs from Georgia to Maine. Hiking the trail is something I’ve thought about in the past, being one who enjoys the outdoors and a good challenge, but despite my adventurous attitude, it left me thinking that I wouldn’t be up to such a monumental task. It’s a goal that takes time to develop and fully realize. It takes planning. It takes gear. Maps. Scouting. Food. A book on surviving natural disasters and animal attacks. Proper footwear. And most of all, it takes a lot of guts and determination.
A very small percentage of people actually complete their goal of walking the whole thing. An even smaller percentage of people walk from Georgia to Maine, then turn around and walk all the way back to Georgia. People from all walks of life find themselves on the trail. I believe the largest man listed to walk the trail was well over 300+ pounds, and the oldest person well in their 80s.
The trail presents a variety of challenges to those that embark on its blazed path. The weather brings snow and rain as well as blazing heat and numbing cold. It’s necessary to carry most everything important that you need, which transforms a walk in the woods to a march through untamed wilderness. One’s limits are tested, and in the end it is not the trail which is the antagonist, but it is an internal challenge.
Maybe I’ll go hike the AT someday, but for now I know that I’m on my own walk in the woods here at the Farm. It’s different in a variety of ways, but I find the similarities to be quite entertaining. Here are a few that might humor you.
1. A hiker that comes back into civilization after 5 or 6 days in the backcountry is overwhelmed by the many amenities instantly available. Volunteers typically go home once or twice in their time here, and in other vacation moments, volunteers often find themselves in a Honduran metropolis that maybe has a Dunkin Donuts. Fully stocked groceries, stoplights, napkins, couches, hot water, and television present themselves as items from the past that I know so well, but somehow they have become much less significant.
2. A hiker that heads back into the backcountry quickly tires of repetitive and often unexciting food. The stages are: this simplicity makes hiking fun, I miss burgers; this again?—I’ll pass; oh well—why not; does this taste like meat to you? At the Farm we eat a lot of rice and beans, and at times our meals can also lack a lot variety. However, most people embrace the simplicity, and it becomes a joyful experience.
3. A hiker with a long, difficult route ahead may very well ask the question: What did I get myself into? No matter how prepared a missionary might be to serve a given group of people, there will likely be moments of doubt regarding the call to serve. We all doubt our own abilities, but in the end, we are humbled to accept that we are all unprepared and incompetent. Saint Terese of Liseux said that this feeling of ineptitude should bring us joy knowing that God has made us weak in order that we might turn to him to provide all that we need and truly long for.
Like any good group of hikers, we set out together, each going at his or her own pace. Some choose to lead. Others follow. Myself, I’m always one for wanting to start the fire, whereas Theresa and Beth are the ones most likely to make elaborate dinner plans. Quinn will bear the burden of carrying her guitar along the way, just so she can sing us her mezoalto versions of Britney Spears. Kate will play us some songs on the guitar too, but she’s also likely to carry a deck of cards and challenge anyone who feels lucky enough to win. Ted would likely put himself to work figuring out how to put together a lean-to, and Keenan would probably try to convince Ted to take the time to dig a pool too, or at least to put up a few hammocks. While out on the path, Annie and Erin would lead group sing-alongs, while Francesca and Jenny would go into laughing fits and cause each other to fall off the trail because they were laughing so hard that their bodies went totally weak. Ryan would be the most likely to be the Good Samaritan, retracing his steps, no matter what distance, just to lend a helping hand. Lupita and Liz would be good walking buddies while in the wilderness, with an eagerness to listen and be present to each other and to anyone else who needs a shoulder to lean on, which works out nice, because they’re shorter than the rest of us. If we had any doubts regarding the present dangers of the woods, Marc would be along to instruct us in all the necessary Boy Scout precautions, and general wilderness knowledge, and Dan, with his mountain-man facial hair, would also prove to be an invaluable resource for identifying local fauna, providing Latin names for the most important species. If ever a plan were needed for the hike, Nathan would already have it printed out and accompanied by at least three alternatives, and Jennie Maria would likely be able to walk us through a cost/benefit analysis, although she would probably dodge all further questions regarding food, deflecting authority to Alisha. After having resolved any food questions or concerns, Alisha would be more than capable of lightening the situation, using her dirty trail socks to tell a fun story about a couple of bunnies speckled brown and white. If we were carrying a firearm, we’d probably trust it to Chris, although we wouldn’t let him wear the beret in case any passersby might think we were a militant group of missionaries. So maybe we’d put Kristina and Sara at the front of our squadron; Kristina for her vigor for the faith and concern for our spiritual well-being, and Sara for her outspoken advocacy of and goal of living the rest of her life as a volunteer for various Christian organizations. Anne and Laura would likely walk together, although they might take off running just as well, and it would be likely to hear them planning their next far off adventure or former travels to South America. If Sheena and Peter were to walk together, they’d likely stumble upon some of their shared experiences growing up primarily with siblings of the opposite sex, and having the pleasure of working with the oldest boys that we have at the Farm. Lizzy too would be with us, both through her often imitated but never duplicated points of light, but also through all the goodies she sends, helping to lighten our load by showing her unique way of remembering each one of us.
Our time here is a journey, and we thank and appreciate all the support that we receive both near and far. You have all helped us to have the confidence in ourselves to step out and embark upon this mission that has united us. We thank you for your emails, phone conversations, letters, care packages, visits, updates, and we ask that you join your efforts with our own through prayer and participation in the liturgical celebrations that are at the heart of our missionary-minded Church. As one of the eleven volunteers that will be saying goodbye this December, I ask that you pray for all of us that will be leaving behind a new family and a new home.
God bless y nos vemos pronto.
Raúl
Ryan Gross
rg46@evansville.edu
www.farmofthechild.org
A very small percentage of people actually complete their goal of walking the whole thing. An even smaller percentage of people walk from Georgia to Maine, then turn around and walk all the way back to Georgia. People from all walks of life find themselves on the trail. I believe the largest man listed to walk the trail was well over 300+ pounds, and the oldest person well in their 80s.
The trail presents a variety of challenges to those that embark on its blazed path. The weather brings snow and rain as well as blazing heat and numbing cold. It’s necessary to carry most everything important that you need, which transforms a walk in the woods to a march through untamed wilderness. One’s limits are tested, and in the end it is not the trail which is the antagonist, but it is an internal challenge.
Maybe I’ll go hike the AT someday, but for now I know that I’m on my own walk in the woods here at the Farm. It’s different in a variety of ways, but I find the similarities to be quite entertaining. Here are a few that might humor you.
1. A hiker that comes back into civilization after 5 or 6 days in the backcountry is overwhelmed by the many amenities instantly available. Volunteers typically go home once or twice in their time here, and in other vacation moments, volunteers often find themselves in a Honduran metropolis that maybe has a Dunkin Donuts. Fully stocked groceries, stoplights, napkins, couches, hot water, and television present themselves as items from the past that I know so well, but somehow they have become much less significant.
2. A hiker that heads back into the backcountry quickly tires of repetitive and often unexciting food. The stages are: this simplicity makes hiking fun, I miss burgers; this again?—I’ll pass; oh well—why not; does this taste like meat to you? At the Farm we eat a lot of rice and beans, and at times our meals can also lack a lot variety. However, most people embrace the simplicity, and it becomes a joyful experience.
3. A hiker with a long, difficult route ahead may very well ask the question: What did I get myself into? No matter how prepared a missionary might be to serve a given group of people, there will likely be moments of doubt regarding the call to serve. We all doubt our own abilities, but in the end, we are humbled to accept that we are all unprepared and incompetent. Saint Terese of Liseux said that this feeling of ineptitude should bring us joy knowing that God has made us weak in order that we might turn to him to provide all that we need and truly long for.
Like any good group of hikers, we set out together, each going at his or her own pace. Some choose to lead. Others follow. Myself, I’m always one for wanting to start the fire, whereas Theresa and Beth are the ones most likely to make elaborate dinner plans. Quinn will bear the burden of carrying her guitar along the way, just so she can sing us her mezoalto versions of Britney Spears. Kate will play us some songs on the guitar too, but she’s also likely to carry a deck of cards and challenge anyone who feels lucky enough to win. Ted would likely put himself to work figuring out how to put together a lean-to, and Keenan would probably try to convince Ted to take the time to dig a pool too, or at least to put up a few hammocks. While out on the path, Annie and Erin would lead group sing-alongs, while Francesca and Jenny would go into laughing fits and cause each other to fall off the trail because they were laughing so hard that their bodies went totally weak. Ryan would be the most likely to be the Good Samaritan, retracing his steps, no matter what distance, just to lend a helping hand. Lupita and Liz would be good walking buddies while in the wilderness, with an eagerness to listen and be present to each other and to anyone else who needs a shoulder to lean on, which works out nice, because they’re shorter than the rest of us. If we had any doubts regarding the present dangers of the woods, Marc would be along to instruct us in all the necessary Boy Scout precautions, and general wilderness knowledge, and Dan, with his mountain-man facial hair, would also prove to be an invaluable resource for identifying local fauna, providing Latin names for the most important species. If ever a plan were needed for the hike, Nathan would already have it printed out and accompanied by at least three alternatives, and Jennie Maria would likely be able to walk us through a cost/benefit analysis, although she would probably dodge all further questions regarding food, deflecting authority to Alisha. After having resolved any food questions or concerns, Alisha would be more than capable of lightening the situation, using her dirty trail socks to tell a fun story about a couple of bunnies speckled brown and white. If we were carrying a firearm, we’d probably trust it to Chris, although we wouldn’t let him wear the beret in case any passersby might think we were a militant group of missionaries. So maybe we’d put Kristina and Sara at the front of our squadron; Kristina for her vigor for the faith and concern for our spiritual well-being, and Sara for her outspoken advocacy of and goal of living the rest of her life as a volunteer for various Christian organizations. Anne and Laura would likely walk together, although they might take off running just as well, and it would be likely to hear them planning their next far off adventure or former travels to South America. If Sheena and Peter were to walk together, they’d likely stumble upon some of their shared experiences growing up primarily with siblings of the opposite sex, and having the pleasure of working with the oldest boys that we have at the Farm. Lizzy too would be with us, both through her often imitated but never duplicated points of light, but also through all the goodies she sends, helping to lighten our load by showing her unique way of remembering each one of us.
Our time here is a journey, and we thank and appreciate all the support that we receive both near and far. You have all helped us to have the confidence in ourselves to step out and embark upon this mission that has united us. We thank you for your emails, phone conversations, letters, care packages, visits, updates, and we ask that you join your efforts with our own through prayer and participation in the liturgical celebrations that are at the heart of our missionary-minded Church. As one of the eleven volunteers that will be saying goodbye this December, I ask that you pray for all of us that will be leaving behind a new family and a new home.
God bless y nos vemos pronto.
Raúl
Ryan Gross
rg46@evansville.edu
www.farmofthechild.org
Farm of the Child Blog Launch
Welcome to the new and improved (okay, first ever) official Farm of the Child blog. This site will post updates from the volunteers serving at Farm of the Child in Trujillo, Colon, Honduras, including photos and videos when available. We hope this will be a forum to invite Family and Friends of the Farm to stay up to date on the goings on at our mission in Honduras. Thanks for joining us and, as always, thanks for your tremendous support!
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