Monthly Archives: April 2016

The President is Coming?

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My relaxed evening came to an abrupt end when Carina, the school director, called. The conversation contained a combination of excitement and panic, stirring the same emotions in me.

“The president is coming here to Monjas? You mean the president of Guatemala?” I asked as I rose from the chair and started pacing.

“Yes, Mama Carroll, it is President Alvaro Colom, and he is coming in the morning for a visit to Monjas,” replied Carina. “The school superintendent just called to give me the information, and we have been ordered to have our girls do their gymnastics performance for him. I repeat, he ordered the girls to perform. He didn’t ask if we could. We need to be at Central Park by eight in the morning, ready to go.”

After some discussion, Carina accepted the responsibility of getting all of the kids to the appointed place. We didn’t want them to miss the opportunity to meet President Colom nor get on the bad side of the school superintendent. I remembered the excitement of the First Lady’s coming to Shadow of His Wings Orphanage, and now the president of Guatemala was arriving.

Flintstone PresentationThe month before this, the girls had won first place doing a gymnastic rendition of the Flintstones at the Department (State) level competition in Jalapa. From there, they went to Guatemala City for the National competition and took first place. The thrill of this honor for these children could not be summed up in a few words. To go from a condition of being abused to having hundreds of fans cheering you on resonated in all of our hearts.

When we returned from the Capital with the first-place trophy, we met a line of cars waiting to follow us into Monjas. People held signs of congratulations while standing by the highway, cheering the girls for a first-time achievement in this town. The excitement level radiated from the bus as the girls chanted, “Libertad, Libertad, Libertad!” The parade of cars behind the bus and the horns honking had people lining the streets waving. This was a thrill of a lifetime, and now the girls would perform for President Colom and add to that list.

By eight o’clock the next day, we had everyone from JPoLA waiting for the important guest at Central Park. The kids tittered and giggled in nervous anticipation of doing their gymnastics routine for the president. I had things flying around in my stomach, and I wasn’t even performing.

We talked amongst ourselves and decided that President Colom would come by helicopter, so our ears tuned in to any similar sounds. People gathered and waited, a common practice here where time doesn’t dictate when activities will begin. Restlessness became evident, and even the ice cream boy with his little cart quit ringing his bell. Finally, the mayor announced that the president would not be coming. However, he asked that the girls perform for those present. The girls loved to perform, and their disappointment didn’t change their enthusiasm. The pride I felt for them stretched my heart a little more, as I watched them go through the routine.

We waited through some speeches and then heard a helicopter. The mayor announced that a special visitor did come, the National Director of Education, and he asked the girls to repeat their routine for the director. Afterwards, the director mingled with the girls, asking about their educational experiences. Then he took a group photo with them. In their eyes, his personal interest captured their attention, and it didn’t matter that the president didn’t make it to Monjas.

I also had the opportunity to visit with the director, who spoke English, making it much easier to express the concerns I had for the education of the older girls in Monjas. I explained about the limited opportunities for careers in our area. He told me that he’d help with whatever he could, just give him a call. He demonstrated himself as someone on the same team for the same cause. We went from the president is coming to no he isn’t, but the Lord provided a more valuable connection for the needs of the Shadow kids.

True Sponsoring of a Child

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IMGJack-1“Wow, I like that necklace,” I said, lifting it up for a better look at the lovely cross.

“It’s from my sponsor,” replied Mari her face beaming with pride.

I enjoyed hearing responses like this from children whose sponsors had communicated with them. Her reaction showed the importance of relationship in a sponsorship program. As a nonprofit organization, a long list of needs is met by others who make donations toward the care of needy children. One form of these donations comes through a sponsorship program. People who commit to the program give a specific amount of money monthly for one child. The money is used for the child’s education, medical needs, clothing, food, and much more, including the monthly expenses for the casitas.

I became acquainted with this type of program many years ago, before I left Montana, when I signed up to help a young boy in Mexico. I received a letter from him at various times and had his picture posted on my refrigerator. However, I must confess that in my financial struggles, I stopped sending a monthly donation. I regret that decision, because I could have continued if I had made some better choices with my money. Now that I work with and am around children who are supported, I see how important these programs are for them. Yes, they are a great tool for helping orphanages operate, but they also affect the hearts of these kids. There is more to the true sponsoring of a child.

I would like to share a few comments the older girls have made regarding being sponsored:

1. “It felt good to know that someone wanted me, even though they were not my biological family.”
2. “I have an opportunity for school, clothes, food, and other areas of need.”
3. “I looked forward to the sponsor visit, because I had the opportunity to get to know them.”
4. “My favorite time with my sponsor is to play and talk. They show me love, and I love them.”
5. “My sponsor makes me feel like I am part of their family.”
6. “I would like to tell sponsors that even though they can’t come to Guatemala for a visit, the letters they send are very important to us kids. We want to know more about their lives.”

The sponsorship program at Shadow of His Wings Orphanage encourages a relationship between the IMG_1818sponsor and the child and her house parents. It’s easy to accomplish this with social media, and the children glow when they connect with their family. These kids feel a stronger sense of belonging when they have the love of the sponsor family come alongside the love of their Shadow family. When they have come to us thinking they are trash, a huge component of the true sponsoring of a child turns these young ones in a positive direction. It gives them hope for the future.

My favorite memories are at Christmastime when those who are sponsored come to the office to receive the gift from their sponsor family. The presents wait below the decorated tree, and the kids can hardly wait for their name to be called. They give shouts of joy when opening the gifts and run to their friends to share their treasures.

Shadow has an established sponsorship program. If you are interested in checking it out, click on this link and read how you can be involved in making a difference in the life of a child.

http://www.shadowofhiswingsorphanage.org/http://www.shadowofhiswingsorphanage.org

Crash Times

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“We are here to help any of you when you’re facing the crash time. Every missionary goes through it at some point, and there is nothing to be ashamed of when it happens. We are humans with many emotions, and when our world takes a spin, we react in many ways,” said the school psychologist. All of us newbies at CAG (Christian Academy of Guatemala) looked at each other with a grin, knowing the truth in what had been said. Some had already begun to feel the pains.

Leaving loved ones behind for an unknown time period can be painful, even when willingly making the choice. Adding to that, when one leaves all that is familiar and goes to a foreign country, one grabs for any familiarity. (The golden arches of McDonalds drew me, and I didn’t like eating there when I lived in the States.) I walked this missionary road with uncertainty and fears.

I followed the same road of many thousands before me: saying goodbye to my loved ones and entering an unfamiliar country. I knew this would be a lifetime commitment, so I closed many doors behind me. I resigned from my teaching position, took early retirement, sold my mobil home, gave away or sold most of my belongings, and left those whom I loved. I felt like I had started life all over with a whole different set of rules, and I didn’t know what those rules were.

People ask how I coped with the separation from my family and home, and how did it make me feel to know this would be final. I can look back and see a clear path. I drowned myself in the duties of teaching missionary children, diverting the focus off of myself. However, even in my busyness, I had down time when I hungered for a word from home. We had email, but it was available only in the school’s library and for a limited time. I had needed some items to remind me of home and my family, so I brought with me memorabilia, my favorite Montana rock, and lots of pictures of my family to surround me. The soothing sound of music helped console me, and I spent time reading the Bible and talking to the Lord.

My crash time came after a bout of sickness, and in my weakness, the loneliness smacked me to my knees. I longed for my family, to hear their voices and to know what was happening in their lives. Recognizing the signs of depression, I contacted the psychologist and found myself going out with her family for a time of fun, including a movie and eating out. When I came home, I lit some candles, prayed, ate a sweet treat, and found myself slowly coming out of the depression. Gradually, the ups and downs became less frequent, and I could see progress.

With Christmas approaching, I bought my ticket home and floated out of the airline office. I held this jewel of jewels tightly in my hand, knowing I would see some of my loved ones again. When I reached the States, I wondered what people would think if I kissed the ground. Home! I didn’t return to my home state, but it felt like I had come home.

Then I faced another dimension of being a missionary that took me by surprise. I felt like a stranger trying to reconnect with my family. They were excited to see me and gave lots of hugs and encouraging words, but what do we say to each other after that? I talked about my experiences in Guatemala but wanted to focus on knowing more about my family. What occupied their everyday lives? With growing grandkids, I wanted to experience their likes and dislikes. My family wanted to bless me, and I wanted to do the same for them. We found ourselves dancing in each other’s lives, but the waltz didn’t jive with the salsa, and I danced with two left feet, making me feel depressed.

The time came to say goodbye, and my heart repeated its routine from the first time I left for the mission field. It felt torn, even though I wanted to go back to the ministry. I didn’t know when I could visit my loved ones again, and that uncertainty made me feel down for a while.

After a couple of years, I no longer had to have the airline ticket in my hand to be at peace. The notion of kissing the ground when I came to the States ceased. Guatemala became my home, and one day I had an amazing thought: I had been blessed with two homes, two families, and the crash times ended. I no longer struggled with my loved ones being in the States, and we learned to dance with the same rhythm. I had made the adjustment through the grace of the Lord, who helped me every step of the way.

Audience for Maria

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I sat in the waiting area of the court for our audience for Maria.* I took a few deep breaths trying to calm myself, while I repeated in Spanish what I needed to say to the judge. I looked at those around me waiting for their audiences and shook my head thinking how different things worked here compared to the States.

Chairs lined the walls by a stairway, but those ten chairs hardly accommodated the twenty-five people standing. Some chose the stairs for a place to rest, some sat on the dirty floor, and others leaned against the wall. Sound bounced off the cement block walls, so people spoke loudly to be heard. I watched court officials come out of the offices, shout a name, and that party followed the official into a room. The procedure remained constant, which helped me know what to do. I noticed at times that nobody responded to a call and wondered if that person didn’t hear their name or if they weren’t present. I strained each time, listening for our name.

Concerned, I spoke into Maria’s ear, “Please listen carefully, so we don’t miss our call. I can hardly hear what they are saying.”

“Okay, Mama Carroll,” she replied and scooted closer to me. I could feel her arm tensing, so I reminded her that God had heard our prayers.

This being the last audience for Maria, the judge would make the custody decision. Her aunt had petitioned the court for Maria to live with her and her husband, but Maria didn’t like the idea. She did not have a good relationship with her aunt and said her uncle gave her the creeps with lewd looks. Lord, please intervene on Maria’s behalf so that she will go where you know is best. I want her with us, but I desire your will for her life. Please help me to say what I need and to be understood by everyone in the meeting.

“Sombra de Sus Alas.”

“That’s us,” I said as I grabbed Maria’s hand. I think we matched high heart rates. Her eyes filled with fear, while I had my own private battle going on inside. Lord, will I ever get used to being in this position of fighting for the future of these girls? Help me to calm down and focus.

In the office, Maria sat next to me with her arm tightly around mine and her head close to my shoulder. Her aunt sat across from us glaring. She had hired a representative to help her get custody of Maria, and he sat shuffling through his papers. When the judge came in, we respectfully stood until she sat, which signaled that we could do the same. During the introductions, I learned that along with the court secretary, we had a court psychologist and a human rights representative in our group. Each person would share any findings pertinent to the case and explain why Maria should live at Shadow of His Wings or with the aunt and uncle. The aunt’s representative emphatically declared that Maria needed to be with her family and that they would provide her with a proper home and education. My heart sank at his aggressiveness, but I continued to pray for God’s will in Maria’s life.

I felt Maria’s fingers dig into my arm. I looked at her ashen face and saw her lip and chin tremble. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, that God heard our prayers, but I knew I had to keep quiet.

When my turn came, I declared the benefits of Maria living with us until she turned eighteen, or later, if she continued with her education. In the eyes of the court, an advanced education, which was any grade past sixth grade, was considered a high priority. The conversations went back and forth, until I saw a glimmer in the eyes of the aunt’s representative. I think he realized that Maria would be better off living at Shadow.

Next, Maria had a private meeting with the judge. She later told me that she described how content she felt to be part of the Shadow family. When we all gathered around the table for the verdict, the judge stated that Maria would be permanent population at Shadow of His Wings.

I heard a whoosh come out of Maria’s mouth as we stood up and hugged each other. After the aunt and representative left the room, the judge approached us, noticing that Maria still clung to me. “Maria, you are happy with the decision, aren’t you?”

Maria smiled and nodded. I think her emotions had taken a toll on her, and she couldn’t speak. The judge said she understood how Maria felt and was happy she lived with me because I was so sweet. What? Did I just hear this judge say I was sweet? I never expected a response like that from a judge, but it sure touched me deeply that she would even take the time to say such a thing.

With the audience for Maria and many others, I learned more about how the system worked and gained some confidence when I sat in the court rooms. However, I must confess that when we hired a full-time social worker, and she took over that duty, I rejoiced.

*Name has been changed.