One of Those Days

Yesterday I cried in front of three of my bilingual boys.

Not just like one, single tear rolling down my cheek, but flat out cried. Lose your breath, stomach contracting, can't talk kind of snotty cry. It wasn't pretty. All three just stared at me with blank, "what the heck just happened" and "what do we say" kind of looks. I kept trying to get it together, but the fact was... yesterday was just one of those days.

For me, I don't really have many of those days... like ever. I'm a pretty tough cookie. It takes a lot for me to cry, but one thing that always does me over is when I get my feelings hurt. Here in Honduras things are different - culturally, I mean. People will say you look like you're "fatter" or that your hair looks "dead/old/ugly" or point out your blemishes on your face. They never mean any harm, but they are just a very blunt culture. They see things for how they are, and they let you know their opinions. This has taken some getting used to. Part of me really was offensive towards the beginning, but now I know I have to remember they don't mean any harm.

Yesterday was one of those days when I let it get to me.

Several of the older boys I don't think really understand why I am here. They probably think its because I live here for free, eat for free, and am just "having a good time". WRONG. I have a nice bed at home. I have great family and friends at home. And I'll go ahead and make a bold statement saying I could probably find some sort of job at home. NEWSBREAK: that's not why I'm here... like at all.

Without rattling on with details, several of the older boys have been ignoring me for pointless reasons. We use the word here - "malcriado", which technically is like selfish, spoiled, ungrateful. Sometimes they just decide to write you off - for no reason whatsoever - leaving one feeling useless and unworthy of their company. Again I should not let my feelings get hurt, but this time I did. They were sent/made to come apologize, but it was clear to me they didn't mean it. Only one of the three really seemed like he was sorry, and I let the other two have it. I kept asking them why they treated me like that... what I had done to deserve it...etc. Their only response was that I had done something to tick them off, even though I had apologized "for whatever I had done" several times. Sidenote: this has been going on since the day I returned.

My heart literally broke as I tried to tell them how much I care for them, and that they all are brothers to me. One specifically acted like he could give a rat's *@$, and it just blew the top off for me. I started crying while I was trying to tell them how much they had hurt me, and I didn't even get choked up to begin with - just straight bawling. I was in the yellow house at this point - and I feared for all the young ones to see me, therefore I rushed into the homework room with my three little ones and let it all come out. Unfortunately we didn't resolve anything, and I just tried to go on after about 10 minutes of sniffles and tears.

The little ones asked me why I was crying, and all I could think to say was something they unfortunately will have to learn one day... "that people can be really cruel sometimes, even when you don't think you deserve it. But we must remember we never know what someone else is going through". Lessons for the third graders... I pray no one ever makes them cry. They are so innocent.

I went back to my room and clung my Jesus Calling to my chest. I thanked God for the conversation, even though it made my heart hurt. Who knows, maybe I gained some ground with those boys?

After eating dinner alone, crying a little more, and really missing home, I decided I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. I marched my little butt over to see my little ones again while they got ready for bed. I found all the boys in their bedrooms, studying for their upcoming tests and chatting about family and best friends. I got to tuck in a few boys, help them change into their PJ's, and I had 18 good night hugs. It was just what I needed. Some love. I needed to know I was loved and appreciated. Here I am trying to give these 5-18 year olds love, when in turn I still crave that affection at 24 years old. Will it ever end? Probably not. But last night I was grateful for those sloppy kisses and smelly hugs more than ever.

Thank you, Jesus, for each day... even if at times it is one of those not-so-great ones.

Birthday Cake

Every month we have a birthday celebration for all the boys/staff that celebrate for that month. This past Thursday afternoon we celebrated a few special birthday boys from the pink and yellow houses.

We start by all walking over to Tio Ronald's (the director's) house. He literally lives next door and has a beautiful outdoor area fit for nothing more perfect than a birthday party. The house has an entire wrap-around, tiled area with swings, benches, rocking chairs, and tons and tons of plants. The trees and plants make it the perfect place to relax late afternoon with a great breeze and a stereo system to PUMP THE JAMS.

This time, we had a special visit from two clowns (family of one of our employees) who came dressed to the nine's to play the part. We played enough musical chairs, hot potato, and races to tire anyone. Especially this little 5 year old.

After playing games and listening to "Party Rock" on repeat (the boys favorite song), it was time for the pinata. This is by far the boys favorite part. I mean, what little boy doesn't like to pick up a bat and hit something? The fact that candy falls out is only a bonus. We always let the birthday boys go first, and then if it still hasn't busted, we go from smallest to largest. This is always so fun and a mystery as to who is going to break it first! This month, it was Jimmy who broke it!

Post pinata usually means time for cake! We sing happy birthday (one of the 7 million spanish versions), cut cake, and then the birthday boys get a special little gift. This is usually something like a puzzle, a squirt gun, or something small (we don't need any more jealousy around here with 55 little boys). I was lucky enough to dance with several of the boys (they think I'm the best dancer) and even share a piece of cake with Norman. It's the little moments that make me, oh so happy.

This month we celebrated Jose Alexander (7), Daniel (8), and Hector (12). All but Hector are pictured above on the swing-set. We had two more boys from the green house who celebrated this month, too. They are planning on celebrating this week. I'm sure it will include playstation, cake, and being smart alecks. Just kidding (kind of)... teenage boys... *sigh*.

On another note, Poppy had a great time on Thursday. She may have even been the life of the party :)

Learning

Sometimes life is tough.

Who am I kidding...? Life is usually pretty tough. I don’t think its meant to be easy, because if there is one thing worth fighting for - it’s your life. You only get one (enter cliche here), so why waste it by giving up when the going gets tough. Found this image on Pinterest, and I think this is the story of my current life.

Enough preaching. Life here at Jovenes has been, in my spoiled-little-American opinion, really tough for a lot of these boys. They are still dealing with lots of emotional issues - especially the older boys. They are the ones who remember more of their past, including some who remember just how much their parents didn’t want them. Some are luckier, meaning their parents come and visit when they have the money to afford the bus fare, but this is maybe once a month. These parents are the ones who realized they weren’t able to financially provide for their boys - a life with an education, 3 meals a day, and dreams of college.

Unfortunately some of these older boys come with serious attitudes. All are trying to decide who they are/want to be as they approach manhood, and sometimes there are ugly side effects. Some rebel in the home - bad attitudes, refusing to do chores, bullying, etc. Some rebel at school - bullying, skipping class, or making poor grades. And then there are those who are indifferent - who care less how their time is spent. The “indifferents” are the worst in my opinion. These are the ones who don't realize their potential and don't take advantage of their opportunities. These just want to eat, sleep, and walk around as if life is worthless. The lack of ambition or dreams is painful for us here at JEC. We want these boys to realize their worth. Realize that anything is possible with people who believe in them and want to help them financially, so they can take chances and learn from their mistakes.

I try to give them the benefit of the doubt in the sense that these boys haven’t had these options even laid out for them in the past, meaning their minds haven’t even started to process the endless possibilities they have.

This past week the boys grades came back from the second quarter (just now getting these as we’re finishing 3rd quarter - this is Honduras, baby). Some of the boys did amazing - all the younger boys (3 of the 5 pictured above). They are the ones who just started high school this year, and they have really gone above and beyond to excel this school year. The older ones are where the indifferents lie. First quarter was a complete and total disaster. Most just really fell apart, therefore punishments were put in place (no soccer, tv, playstation, etc), and the majority really came back second semester. Unfortunately about 5 failed several classes again.

This is where things get difficult. This is where I am learning to be a parent without having given birth to my own child. How do you punish someone who is indifferent? I have learned, even though it sounds vicious, you must take away what they love most. If this is their bicycle they purchased with their own money, so be it. If this means they have to clean yucky, pee-stenched bathrooms, so be it. This “giving of punishment” isn’t pretty, especially when 16 and 17 year-olds start crying in front of you. So here come the magic questions...

How do you explain to someone they are wasting their potential?

How do you tell someone you love they can be so much more without insulting them?

How do you reveal to a teenage boy he has been blessed to be given an education and a home when so many in Honduras (and other countries) aren’t so lucky?

How do you explain that punishment isn’t given to make them mad, and that this punishment hurts us just as bad (if not worse) than them?

I left the meeting feeling drained. We congratulated those who had exceeded our expectations, and then met with the others. While telling all the boys who passed all their classes, my heart was bursting with joy. I am so proud of these boys. I know this must be some type of parental love. When I sit back I look at each boy and see how far they’ve come, actual tears come to my eyes. For those who know me, you get how big this is considering I hardly ever cry. It takes something really sad or extremely beautiful to moisten these “ojos”. Some of these boys I’ve been lucky to know well for a while now, others I’ve just gotten to know in the past year. I cannot wait continuing watching them grow, find themselves, and become great men.

Today I am praising God for these moments - when my heart is bursting with overflowing joy and hope for the futures of these guys. I am also praising Him for teaching me the lesson of punishing a child - only when there is a lesson to be learned. I look back and understand I was punished only for the purpose of being a better person .

So thank you, Lord, for these lessons you teach me. Thanks, mom and dad, for not saying “I told you so”. And thanks friends and family, for your prayers for these boys and their futures!

Here is a funny picture for all to enjoy. I found this on my camera this morning. One of the boys took this of me doing laundry last night. I am grateful and proud of our washing machine and dryer!! It saves me a lot of arm work.