Gold

All I do is love love love every day.

I remember last year when I was in America I became overwhelmed with the desire to live in the moment. I really wanted to learn how to do that.

But it seemed nearly impossible. I always had papers due. I always had lists of things that needed to be done. I was never completely finished.

Living in the moment seemed far away and unreachable.

And now here I am, looking back on the past nine months of my life, and realizing that the absolutely biggest and greatest thing I have done is truly lived.

I have lived what matters to me. I have lived what I care about. I have lived what is true to me.

I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t scared to go back to the world I was in before where I struggled with so many things that now seem small and petty to me.

I would be lying if I told you I don’t feel sick to my stomach when I picture leaving these children behind.

I would be lying to you if I told you I don’t feel guilty for being another person in these kids lives who comes and then goes when I could choose to stay.

Two weeks ago Kevin and I were in the kitchen. There were close to thirty volunteers here from Argentina. Which means we were cooking for close to one hundred people. Three meals a day.

Breakfast needs to be ready by 7:30, lunch by 12:30, and supper by 5:30.

On top of that I teach from 8-12 and 1:30-2:15.

I have never felt so burnt out. I was exhausted. I was also very sick, but had pretty much no time at all to think about that.

I had the same work group as last time that I was in the kitchen. The older boys consist of Benjo, Dagner, and Kepler. All of whom I love immensely and all of whom hate the kitchen.

That being said, getting them to do anything was a job in itself. I dreaded every time I had to ask them to take out the trash.

I did it last time Teacher.

You only ask me to do stuff.

Have someone else do it. I don’t want to.

Sunday I ended up staying and Dagner was in the kitchen. That morning when I asked him to cut tomatoes, he went off on how I always ask him to do things, and never any of the other boys.

In case you’re wondering, that’s not true.

I told him that he was always late, and that’s why he always ended up working after everyone else. And then I told him to cut the tomatoes.

While he was cutting, I told him that when he was finished with the ones in the bowl, he could go.

A few minutes later he finished up. I looked at him and said he could leave. Right before he headed out the door, I offered him a bowl of popcorn since Armando and Manuel had made some for fun and I figured he’d want some.

He came back with a little smile on his face and grabbed a couple pieces. I started washing tomatoes and cutting more. Candace was cutting corn next to me. Dagner stood there, eating popcorn and looking at us. There was a knife in front of him. He picked it up and started playing with it. Debating.

A minute later, he looked up at Candace. Can I help you?

And he stayed there and cut corn.

Later that day he was leaving the kitchen. Right before he walked out, he turned back and gave me a hug. Those really sweet Dagner hugs that are just so precious.

Nothing turns a sad day around like a Dagner hug.

And I just thought

My word child. You're a lot of work in the kitchen. But that’s such a little thing. Your heart is made of gold.

Saturday for the very first time we took all the boys on a hike to the cross. I felt so sick and was so tired so I decided not to go. But while I was lying in bed, Dani came running into the room, put her hands together, and told me to get out of bed and go.

I got out of bed and went.

Solid decision, I must say. Thanks Dani.

We got out of the truck and were walking over to where the hike begins. Benjo was a ways ahead and turned around and saw me coming. He walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder and said

I thought you weren’t coming. But then I saw you and thought, Hey Teacher Darian’s here. I’m gonna wait for her.

His foot was injured from jumping into the river. And I was sick. So we made a great team hiking up that mountain. We were not only incredibly slow, but we made about fifteen thousand jokes about how old and decrepit we were.

And going down the mountain? We spent half the time laughing at the people accidentally sliding down the mountain. (All in good fun, of course. Noone broke anything.)

And then when we were walking back I ran into Benjo yet again and he immediately put his arm around me and told me to slow down so we could walk back together.

And I thought my word child. You walk so incredibly slowly but that’s such a little thing. Your heart is made of gold.

Earlier that day whenever I wasn’t planning on going to the hike, little Reuben came in and told me he was sad I wasn’t coming because he missed me.

I told him I missed him too and I was sad I couldn’t go.

He made a very sad face, gave me a big hug, and walked away.

He came right back, Oh, Teacher. And hugged me again.

Then he walked away.

And came right back, Oh, Teacher. And hugged me again.

I swear this happened at least four times.

Finally he made it out of the room.

Only to turn around and give me another hug and tell me he wished I could come just one more time.

And I thought my word child. You’ll never make it out of my room but that’s such a little thing. Your heart is made of gold.

And then, this past Wednesday night we had a bonfire. The second one of the year. It was freezing cold, which is a really rare treat here. So for Wednesday night worship we bundled around the fire. While we were singing, Dani realized Hugo wasn’t there. She had given him her phone earlier as a light, and he had wandered off with it and not come back.

She looked at me with concern, as Hugo gets really carried away sometimes. He had probably found a hide out and was having a hay day playing with her phone.

We sent Rodrigo looking for him around the fire, and he was nowhere to be found.

Song service ended.

Kevin’s talk ended.

It had been thirty minutes or so, and Hugo still hadn’t showed up.

He was going to be in trouble.

Finally, a little light started coming from the distance. We both stood there, waiting to hear Hugo explain himself for this one.

But as he came closer, our faces completely changed.

You could barely even see the little boy because he was so covered in blankets he had gotten for all his little friends.

He had been in the house, collecting blankets from all the beds of each of the little Fruito Secos.

Dani asked him if they had asked him to do that, and he said no.

He just did it.

Because it’s Hugo.

And I thought my word child. You missed the entire vespers, but that’s such a little thing. Your heart is made of gold.

And I see gold. Everywhere. Every day.