Volunteering and traveling in Argentina to proclaim God's great love, and hopefully not getting sick along the way.

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Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Asking for it

Take a seat and allow me to share with you the adventurous tale of our ministry with the boys this morning!

It started early, with the neighbor's rooster still crowing (though that isn't too surprising, as it crows at all hours of the day), and with a tranquil walk to the institute. The doorbell outside the gate was rung, and no one answered. We waited, and waited, until finally someone opened the door.

"Pasa, chicos," el jefe nos dijo.

"Come in, guys."

We walked in to find six boys ready to go with us. Their eyes lighting up at the sound of going not to the nearest plaza, per usual, but to the Parque de las Naciones. "Bien!" They said, and we should have read the mischief in their eyes.

I remember praying for our time together, asking God to help us when we don't know what to do. There went Franco, already starting a fight with the newest and smallest, Walter. "Oh Dios, ayuda!" I thought.

And then I remembered something else. If the kids that behave at least a little better from our neighborhood were little terrors when we went to the Parque de Saramientos, how will this go?

When we arrived, three decided to run off. "Can you.. follow?" Javi asked me. I immediately started praying for help. Here we go.. 3 energetic boys getting their first taste of true freedom for at least a few months. 'God help me to at least keep up with them.'

I decided not to run, and thankfully one of the kids is less, um, athletic than the others so I could at least always see him. The others began climbing a tree, trying to hide. So I enthusiastically joined them. "I want to climb!" I told them. So we did for about two minutes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them conferring together and I knew that I should probably start my descent. Indeed, they ran off, but surprisingly (or because the Lord is that good), back with the others.

That didn't last too long though, as they then headed for the street, away from the park. At the same time, another two began throwing punches, with JD and Javi there to separate. All the while Walter concentrated on his putting together of this week's craft--a kite.

Sarah this time joined me as we followed the vagabonds to a high school. Ahh.. the boys wanted to talk to some girls sitting outside. Okay, we will just watch them from a distance. I told her that it felt like that kid's book, The Runaway Bunny. The little bunny tells his mother that he's going to run away. "And I will run faster," she tells him. "Then I will jump," he says. "And I will jump higher."

A minute or so later, Javi walked by with Fabrizio. "I need to take him back," he told me in Spanish. "He won't stop fighting with Dario. Keep watch over the other three please."

These kids.. these kids.. One could say they were behaving very badly. I propose they were just behaving the way they know how. They do not know how to be loved; they do not know what it is to be cared about. I think I understand their desire to have a bit of freedom as well. Just don't...

GO INTO THE STREET LIKE THAT!!!! Ah!! They decided to cross between a bustle of cars. We crossed too, thinking they were going to go down another way, getting lost in the neighborhood. But they didn't, in fact, they liked that we crossed and so they crossed back. And then again and again. Fortunately it only took us the first time to not join in their dangerous game. In time, they again returned to the group.

They sat apart from the others, making fun of the runners who passed by. Then they got impatient, wanting to go back. Walter, busy with his kite. JD, trying to make it fly without wind.

When we left, I gave myself some space in front of them. A little frustrated, but also just trying to know what to do. In the meantime, Javi was talking with Fabrizio about his four years of being in and out of institutes. In the meantime, Sarah and JD had to pull apart another set of fighters. One punched Sarah in the ribs and JD has some scratches on his knees to remember the special occasion. When we were finally all together, we ended with Franco's last stand. He stopped to sit.

"Yo no quiero ir," he said, as the rest continued on. "I don't want to go."

I stood with him. "That's fine. I don't think I want to go either."

He sat with his arms crossed. I then crossed mine.

"Walk on without me," he said with a snarl.

"You walk on," I responded.

Silence. Staring. "I'm just going to stay here."

I nodded. "Me too. I don't want to go."

With a gasp he got up and walked with the rest of the group.

All we can do is be as consistent as we can be with these kids. To show them as much love as possible, to love them without expectations. I guess some people call that unconditional love. But let me tell you, it's not easy. I still don't know if I'm always acting rightly, or saying the right things. I'm just trying. And I thank God that I'm not alone!

Chau.

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