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
No comments:
Post a Comment