Monthly Archives: November 2015

The First Wedding

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We faced another new adventure in Guatemala when a handsome young man came to Gib, Joanne, and I and asked for permission to marry our “daughter.” I had mixed emotions when I realized we would soon be seeing the first wedding at Shadow of His Wings Orphanage. My motherly thoughts kicked in, “Is he the right one for her?” “Will he take good care of her with love and respect?” “Will they live close to us?” Then my thoughts went in another direction, and I began wondering about the actual wedding. We had much to learn about the traditions of a Guatemalan wedding, and that is what I wanted to follow. We desired for this young woman to have the best we could give her.

After receiving her teaching certificate, Miriam became a teacher at Liberty Christian School and remained a part of Shadow of His Wings. This followed our plans to provide a home and family for the older girls after they graduated with a career and/or turned eighteen. After becoming engaged, she and her fiance Guilfer decided they wanted to stay in Monjas permanently. I said amen to that with a flutter in my heart. They took the next step of finding an affordable little house close to where we missionaries lived. Giggling like teenagers, Joanne and I discussed what we had in our possessions to help them set up housekeeping, and then we planned our wedding gifts to fill in the bigger items still needed, like a stove and living-room furniture.

A trip to the City provided us with a large selection of gorgeous wedding dresses to choose from. At one particular bridal shop, we were met with much assistance and a multitude of choices for wedding items. In a short time, the perfect dress adorned our bride-to-be, and I marveled at the transformation I saw in her. Her eyes shined with a brightness I’d never seen in her before. The gentle smile didn’t quite match the tears in her eyes as she moved from side-to-side observing every part of the gown on her body. She never dreamed this would happen to her. Her mixture of emotions matched mine. Our girl in all of her beauty would transform IMG_6844from Princess Miriam to Mrs. Miriam.

After finding the right dress, a day with the mamas continued. We laughed, shopped, ate, and laughed some more. We purchased all the paraphernalia a young bride needed for her wedding, making decisions based on tradition and spiritual significance. Totally new to both Joanne and I, we listened to ideas foreign to our own US customs.

We discussed the thirteen coins, called “arras,” and how these coins symbolize Jesus and the twelve apostles as part of the wedding ceremony. I liked the symbolism more commonly represented that the groom promised to provide for his wife and the bride trusted in his ability to do so.

Another common practice uses a cord or “lazo,” which looks like a rosary. During the wedding, a figure-eight shape is formed and then placed around the necks of the bride and the groom after they make their vows. The cord symbolizes lifetime unity of the bride and groom as husband and wife, and the loops represent their love for one another. Miriam wanted a unity candle we all voted that it would be included in the wedding.

This day and the ones to follow are memories embedded in my mind forever. Our adventure with the first wedding had just begun, and I had a lot more to learn about the customs of this country.

 

My Security Team

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IMG_2782Unfamiliar with many of the traditions and customs of Monjas, I found myself in a situation that made me feel like I followed an unlit path. A lady I had befriended asked me to attend the fifteenth birthday party for her daughter. I knew this celebration took precedent over many others, and young girls looked forward to their “Cinderella” day. Because of its importance to the family, I wanted to be there and gladly accepted the invitation.

Uncertain about being alone in the Spanish community, I called for reinforcements. “Girls, I’d like to have you come to the celebration with me, and please help me with anything I don’t understand. I’m counting on you.”

“No problem, Mama Carroll. We will be there for you,” chorused the three older girls.

The party started out at the church and looked like a wedding. Cari* wore a gorgeous dress that could have passed for a wedding gown, except for the beautiful blue color. She had ten attendants wearing matching formals. It amazed me how elaborate the decorations and flower arrangements looked. We had fifteenth birthday parties for the girls in the orphanage, but this one surpassed what we did.

I thought I would be an honored guest at the party but soon found out that I represented one of four “patrinas” (godmothers). What had I gotten myself into? I put on my everything-is-calm face and determined I could go through this with peace and grace. I had my “team” with me to help with the language and advise me of what I needed to do. However, I found myself in a special section with other godmothers, and my girls sat across the room watching me closely. My heart rate accelerated as I focused on the three ladies, ready to copy whatever they did. I made it through the program, the congratulations, and the hundreds of photographs. All went well until the celebration moved to the town salon for the dinner and last part of the celebration.

Again, I found myself sitting at the family’s table with my girls on the other side of the room. I’m sure they saw my frantic looks. They tried to move closer to where I sat, but someone ushered them back to the same table. After the meal, the emcee came over to the table and asked me to share some of my thoughts, and he would not take “no” for an answer. With his insistence, all thoughts fled my mind—Spanish and English. Lord, I need you to guide me through this. It’s important to these people, and I don’t know what to say. The girls watched for a signal from me to come and help, but I mustered up a smile and nodded to them that I’d make it through this. To this day, I do not know what I said to the hundreds of people in the salon that night.

After the meal, people mingled in the room chatting with various friends and family. The girls came over to my table, and we agreed we would slip out the door. Just as we reached the outside, two men approached me. One of them spoke English and said that his friend wanted me to speak to him in English. Willing to oblige this request, we talked Spanglish for a few minutes.

Just as they departed, I noticed all three girls had surrounded me. Miriam had a large Pepsi bottle in her hand, holding it in a threatening manner. Sandy had a smaller bottle of water ready to use as a weapon. Irma’s hands were fists ready to strike at any moment. When they saw me observing them, Miriam said, “Don’t worry, Mama Carroll. We are protecting you.” The seriousness of their actions made me realize how they had grown up in a country where they needed to be on alert at all times. We protected them at Shadow of His Wings, and they were protecting me outside the walls of the orphanage. I realized I had my own personal security team during this birthday celebration.

*Name has been changed.

Not An Institution

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I attended many court audiences where a group of people would present their perspectives on where best to place a child. A representative from Shadow of His Wings Orphanage, the court social worker, someone from the child’s rights group, the court psychologist, a person representing the child’s family, the child, and the judge made up this group. The first two audiences gave time for case investigation, and during the third audience the judge would make her final decision. I learned quickly that judges oppose the idea of institutions. We had a new government-approved nonprofit association, and yet the courts viewed us as an institution.

A movement in Guatemala followed the States’ way of dealing with children by using foster care and removing orphanages, thus eliminating institutions. During one particular visit at Shadow by a court social worker, I observed her talking seriously with two of our girls. It disturbed me because conversations like that should include the representative of the orphanage. I later talked to Joanne, and after talking with the girls, she found out that the courts were removing children from the institutions. The social worker told the girls about this plan. Did this mean we wouldn’t receive children? We had worked hard to grow the orphanage, and now we would be looking at shutting our doors. We needed to move fast and get ourselves known.

An opportunity presented itself during the next audience. “Your honor, I need to explain that we are not an institution.” I took the liberty to describe to these officials how we structured the orphanage. “We have house parents, a mother and father, who are in charge of up to twelve children. We believe it is important that these children learn how to function in a family, to feel loved, and to know they are an important part of this family structure.” I had this judge’s attention, but there were many other judges and court officials who did not know what we represented. Oh, Lord, may we find favor with these people. Let them see our project for what it is and not as the institutional types present in Guatemala. 

Our next plan went into action, and we invited the judges, social workers, and court officials to come to the orphanage to see where we lived. We took the time to explain our plans and vision for the children. Not many came, but the ones who did expressed how impressed they were with what they saw. I knew that the word would spread to others in time. Meanwhile, we needed to use every opportunity to get our information to all of the children’s courts in Guatemala City.

The day came when my heart jumped for joy. During an audience with one of our girls, the social worker said that an institution like Shadow of His Wings would not be the best place for this child. The judge responded, “This orphanage is not an institution. I visited the Home, and they are functioning as a family. I recommend the child remain there.”

The process seemed slow, but in time more of the judges saw what we had to offer the children and showed us favor. It got to the point where they encouraged us to take in boys and not just girls. One judge suggested that we write up a manual describing our program and make our model available to others interested in developing orphanages. I’m sure my mouth fell open before I thanked her and said that it was a good idea. Inside I’m saying, “Thank you, Lord!” Word spread, and we received requests from surrounding areas of Guatemala City to take children into the Home. Our doors stayed open, and we overfilled our capacity, sending us out to look for a larger facility that allowed for growth.

 

Speaking Spanglish

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It is at the top of every missionary’s list to learn the language of the native people. I looked forward to having the capability to converse with those around me with competency. I desired to develop a knowledge of the customs and build relationships. My abilities with the Spanish language consisted of knowing words like “burrito” and “taco,” so I pushed forward in my classes, having hope that it would all come together for me. Then I stopped in my tracks when I realized what a major task I faced.

I had two great hindrances in front of me: (1) Being in my fifties limited my brain capacity for learning. (2) I am a visual learner, and so far nobody has invented a way for us to see the words people speak. The challenge stood there, and I decided to take it on, because I believed that with the Lord’s help, I could do it. He did say He would give me what I needed when I responded to His call to come to Guatemala.

My hopeful venture with this foreign language soon turned into major frustration. I couldn’t hear the words, especially the verbs in their various tenses. It drove me crazy struggling to comprehend, until my head felt like it would burst. Did I have a cognitive disorder? I studied Spanish at every moment—even in my sleep. Being the “mother” for the children coming into the orphanage, I needed to be able to communicate. It encouraged me to know that people were praying for me, and I believed in miracles. If God could make a donkey talk, then He could help me learn a foreign language.

Someone told me that a person can know they are on their way to learning another language when they dream in that foreign language. I began having dreams where I could speak and understand Spanish with ease and fluency. I rejoiced! That encouragement moved me onward with more determination, and then I went downhill again. Out of my anguish, I cried out to the Lord, “Please remove this mental block.” Then a Scripture verse came into my mind, “Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit” (Zechariah 4:6). I started praying differently by putting my hands on my head, by my brain, on my ears, and on my mouth. I claimed the hearing and understanding of Spanish. I claimed that I would speak it, remember it, and use it correctly. A change occurred, and I moved forward with confidence. A load lifted from my mind.

IMG_0752.JPGLearning any language is a lifetime adventure. I continued to falter sometimes by totally missing the right words, but moved along with some competency. I learned to laugh with others when I said, “Yo tengo hombre” (I have man), instead of “Yo tengo hambre” (I have hunger). My friend spoke to a congregation at church and said her husband was a dog. That brought laughter, but the people knew what she meant. I pleaded with the Lord never to show me what I really said when I spoke in Spanish. I slaughtered verbs often, and some of the expressions I saw on the hearer of my words left little doubt that I said a “good one.” The Guatemalan people graciously helped me when I searched for the word I needed. I liked the teamwork approach.

After years of the above process, I found a place of peace. It’s not always about using the correct verbs and adjectives in their proper places. I’m not in a position that requires such competency, and I am grateful for that. It’s about communicating, and communication takes other forms, like body language. I also found that speaking Spanglish works great in many situations. I am at home in this country and feel comfortable with what I lack in speaking the language, but I’m open to learning more each day.