On the second day of the week, Kalani was surprised when I recognized her at Kid's Club. "How do you know my name?" she asked.
By the end of the week she recognized me too, tapping me on the shoulder as she walked by the craft area, a vinyl tablecloth spread over dusty clumps of grass. "Hey, can I make one?" she asked. She sat down to work on her bookmark, diligently searching to find the letters of her name on the foam sticker sheets. She knew "K" was the first one, but wasn't sure what came next. "Maybe an 'a'?" I suggested. She pulled off a capital "Q." I said, "I don't think that one is in your name."
"My mom said it has a circle and a tail," she said. I smiled, and we finally finished spelling her name: KQLQNI.
She wandered off but came back when it was time for snack and story. I was cleaning up the craft area. "Can I sit on your lap?" she asked. So I hurried to put away the craft items and we joined the rest of the kids sitting in dusty rows in front of Joshua. The team passed out snacks to all the kids while Kalani asked me name questions: what my mom's name was, what her last name was, what my last name was, what my second name was. Then Joshua started on the story. He reviewed the story from the day before, and then his actors, some of the kids, joined him to act out the story of the day: Jesus welcoming the little children. "I was in the story once," Kalani told me.
"What were you?" I asked.
"An angel."
"What did you say?" I asked.
"There were thousands of angels," she answered.
"Oh, it must have been the story of an important baby being born!" I told her.
We fell silent, listening to Joshua and his crew, but Kalani started her questions again in the middle of the story. "What's your mom's name?" I whispered to her that right now was time to listen to Joshua and hear the story. "I'm listening," she said. "I know what the story is about. He's talking about Jesus, who did bubbles with the kids and played with them. He loved the kids. My mom told me that Jesus loves grown ups."
I said, my cheek against her warm shoulder, my arms wrapping around her, "He loves kids too, a lot."
"For real or for fake?" she asked.
"For real. He really loves kids."
Joshua finished the story and we had a few more minutes to play. Kalani wanted to get on my back. She's only five, but she's a big girl and carrying her all over the field was a good workout! It was time to go, and Kalani asked me if I could walk her home, "to the brown house." Joshua said she could ride in the Suburban with us, so when we were all loaded up she climbed up into the front seat with me and we drove down the block to her brown house, where she hopped down and disappeared inside. See you later, Kalani. Don't forget, Jesus loves kids, for real.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Winnie
She was squirrely last night at Bible study. I was in the kitchen for the first part of the evening, before and during the meal, but I heard she was sitting by a friend and they were making little bits of trouble together. When we separated for adult Bible study, youth group, and kid's story and craft time, she was in the group I was helping with. She sat across the table from me, grabbed two markers, and began scribbling wildly on her paper without looking at what she was doing. Then she glanced down to see where the paper ended, moved her markers off the paper, and grinned at me as she kept scribbling on the table. When I reminded her of a rule I'm sure she was aware of (no coloring on the table) and enforced the rule by taking the markers away, she threw down her marker caps, slithered under the table, and began an underground escape. Stephen intercepted her, brought her back, sat with her till it was story time. Molly and I were kept busy trying to seat the other three girls in our group: Marie and Lorinda wanted to sit next to each other so they could chat and conspire, and little M.J. was squirmy and fussy. The girls wouldn't stay seated for more than about 60 seconds before jumping up to try to find a new seat, and they were making no effort to be quiet. Joshua was making great efforts to let his voice be heard above the roar, and we were fighting to make him successful. Then Winnie reappeared from somewhere and climbed into my lap. She sat there for the whole story, not always quiet but responsive to my reminders, not obviously paying attention but who knows what was sinking in? Joshua and the flannelgraph board told us the story of Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt, and we went back to our tables. Winnie stayed on my lap, and I traced her hand, splayed on the table, with my finger as we waited for the other girls to gather and for Molly to pull the coloring sheets back out. I started coloring her scribbled-on picture. She was fascinated, and kept pointing out the next thing I should color, choosing markers for me to use. By the time the burning bush sand craft came out, she was a different girl than the one who had brazenly colored on the table earlier. She stayed in my lap, and worked diligently to squeeze glue, spread it with a paint brush, spoon on sand, and tilt the paper so the excess slid back into the bowl. Marie and Lorinda, though older, were more careless and silly, but Winnie was quiet and made every effort to keep the sand in the right place and complete her picture. When the bus pulled up outside the longhouse windows, she obediently put things away and we tucked her pictures into a paper sack for her to take home. And she slipped out, onto the bus, into the night.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Three Nuggets from Today
Hands reach over my shoulders as I sit on a dusty vinyl tablecloth on the ground at kid's club. "Julie!" calls a voice. I reach up to feel the hands. "Who is it?" I ask. It's Connie, just flitting by to say hello on her way across the park.
I sit down for snack and story time, in the midst of the throng but not with any child. A boy walks by. "Can I sit in your lap?" he asks, and snuggles in, leaning trusting against me and quietly reporting his thoughts and comments to me throughout the story time.
It's dusky evening, and we're standing in a semi-circle in the yard, the mountains circling behind us against the last light of the day and a few Granberry kids and friends on the roof in front of us. They've climbed up an old ladder and are scoping out this year's cherry harvest on the branches overhanging the roof. Beth throws a few down to Joshua; they laugh and hunt for the fruit and finally announce that there are actually not too many cherries this year and climb down, one by one.
I sit down for snack and story time, in the midst of the throng but not with any child. A boy walks by. "Can I sit in your lap?" he asks, and snuggles in, leaning trusting against me and quietly reporting his thoughts and comments to me throughout the story time.
It's dusky evening, and we're standing in a semi-circle in the yard, the mountains circling behind us against the last light of the day and a few Granberry kids and friends on the roof in front of us. They've climbed up an old ladder and are scoping out this year's cherry harvest on the branches overhanging the roof. Beth throws a few down to Joshua; they laugh and hunt for the fruit and finally announce that there are actually not too many cherries this year and climb down, one by one.
Monday, June 13, 2011
A Day in the Life of a Sacred Road Intern at Warm Springs
Swing your legs over the side of your cot sometime before 6:00 in the morning. Pull on some clothes in the quiet semi-darkness and slip out the door so team members can keep sleeping; cross through the cool morning air to the kitchen's back door. Splash some water on your face in the bathroom, put up your hair and slather on a bit of sunscreen. Fill a coffee percolator and plug it in. Take a seat in the dining room with Bible and journal for the vanishing solitary moments of the day. Team members drift in, waiting for the coffee's "serve" light to blink on, sitting quietly at other tables with Bibles open before them.
It's 7:00, time to head into the kitchen. Lauren joins you, and maybe a team member appears in the doorway volunteering to help, so you pull out your list and parcel out jobs: wash lettuce for supper, bake a dessert, fill the roaster with chili or spaghetti sauce or meat and beans for taco salad, hard boil eggs for breakfast. Another team member has signed up to set out breakfast, so you direct him to the cereal, yogurt, eggs, fruit, and toast and he readies the buffet table. At 8 Scott prays for the group, 33 people from churches in Ohio, Tennessee, and Mississippi; they eat, and you hurry through the line after them and get back into the kitchen to supervise breakfast dishes and setting out lunch supplies, which are also team-manned chores. Lauren loads up her bins of kids club supplies and then helps with whatever is left in the kitchen. It's past the scheduled departure time of 8:50, so you fill up your water bottle, make sure your work pant pockets are loaded with cell phone and chapstick, and circle up in the parking lot.
Scott prays for the group and they load into their 5 vans; the 3 interns climb into the '89 15 passenger Ford van and lead the way to the Warm Springs Indian Reservation, about a 20 minute drive from the First Baptist Church in Madras where you're staying. First stop: Public Utilities building where Scott finds your contact man (a Warm Springs Indian who also happens to be the assistant pastor at the First Baptist Church) and gets the marching orders for the day. You meet the teams just down the hill at the park and Scott parcels out the jobs. You follow along, finding a place to work for the day.
Maybe it's picking up trash along the side of the road as passersby honk and wave and call out, "Thank you!" By the end of the week some have stopped and asked for prayer; others have thrust a stack of smoked salmon fillets through the open window as you drove the trailer through the Rez to pick up the bags of trash. Hatchery employees slung a bag of fresh salmon from the back of their pick-up truck into your van, filling your cooler to overflowing.
Another day you paint at the Boys and Girls' Club, doing a little painting and a lot of supervising, trying to help 19 team members keep busy. You pour paint refills, wrap brushes and rollers that have been left unattended, move tarps and ladders, point out areas that still need paint.
You keep working for another couple of hours after a sack lunch break, then head down the road to the community center to clean up a little before kids' club.
The vans caravan to the Boys and Girls' Club at 3:30; you pull up and the kids come running. You man the craft table, or wander with your camera taking pictures for the end-of-the-week slide show, or help Lauren organize kids for the skit, or play tag with Andrew. "Everything is base!" he says, running from tree to fence to post to bush. Then he grabs a branch off the bush and invents portable base. It's a rigged game, but Andrew's smile makes it worthwhile.
One afternoon you have to call off a boy who liked to jump rope but kept jumping in out of turn and annoying the other kids who were jumping. Before you leave you learn that his name is Terrence and make a point of saying goodbye to him, hoping to have a better interaction to end the day on. "You're going?" he asks. "Who do you have to see now?" You tell him you're going back to the church where you are staying to eat dinner and spend the night. He doesn't want you to leave.
At 5:30 you pile into the vans and drive back to Madras. You arrive around 6:00 and hurry to unlock the kitchen door. You check the roaster, hoping dinner was cooking all day while you were gone. Scott and Lauren come in to help set drinks on the tables and get the buffet ready. You find serving spoons, cut the dessert, finish chopping things for the salad. Team members file in after cleaning up a bit, and you pray and they flood the buffet table, eagerly emptying bowls to fill their plates. You eat a quick dinner and supervise kitchen clean-up, go over your kitchen plan for the next day, chat with Scott and Lauren, or join the casual worship and sharing gathering. If you have time and are feeling brave and dirty, you head out to the shower trailer. There are no showers in the church, and the solution is a four shower head trailer with insufficient partitions and (supposedly) solar-heated drums. You wear a bathing suit and hold your breath as the cold water hits you; it's actually refreshing and feels especially clean to shower out under the open sky.
Then you brush your teeth and head to the girl's quarters. It's maybe 10:30, and some are in bed but there's still plenty of energy. Around 11:00 (if you haven't fallen asleep in the midst of the noise by then) you remind them that it's lights' out, and fall asleep.
It's 7:00, time to head into the kitchen. Lauren joins you, and maybe a team member appears in the doorway volunteering to help, so you pull out your list and parcel out jobs: wash lettuce for supper, bake a dessert, fill the roaster with chili or spaghetti sauce or meat and beans for taco salad, hard boil eggs for breakfast. Another team member has signed up to set out breakfast, so you direct him to the cereal, yogurt, eggs, fruit, and toast and he readies the buffet table. At 8 Scott prays for the group, 33 people from churches in Ohio, Tennessee, and Mississippi; they eat, and you hurry through the line after them and get back into the kitchen to supervise breakfast dishes and setting out lunch supplies, which are also team-manned chores. Lauren loads up her bins of kids club supplies and then helps with whatever is left in the kitchen. It's past the scheduled departure time of 8:50, so you fill up your water bottle, make sure your work pant pockets are loaded with cell phone and chapstick, and circle up in the parking lot.
Scott prays for the group and they load into their 5 vans; the 3 interns climb into the '89 15 passenger Ford van and lead the way to the Warm Springs Indian Reservation, about a 20 minute drive from the First Baptist Church in Madras where you're staying. First stop: Public Utilities building where Scott finds your contact man (a Warm Springs Indian who also happens to be the assistant pastor at the First Baptist Church) and gets the marching orders for the day. You meet the teams just down the hill at the park and Scott parcels out the jobs. You follow along, finding a place to work for the day.
Maybe it's picking up trash along the side of the road as passersby honk and wave and call out, "Thank you!" By the end of the week some have stopped and asked for prayer; others have thrust a stack of smoked salmon fillets through the open window as you drove the trailer through the Rez to pick up the bags of trash. Hatchery employees slung a bag of fresh salmon from the back of their pick-up truck into your van, filling your cooler to overflowing.
Another day you paint at the Boys and Girls' Club, doing a little painting and a lot of supervising, trying to help 19 team members keep busy. You pour paint refills, wrap brushes and rollers that have been left unattended, move tarps and ladders, point out areas that still need paint.
Fellow intern Lauren
You keep working for another couple of hours after a sack lunch break, then head down the road to the community center to clean up a little before kids' club.
The vans caravan to the Boys and Girls' Club at 3:30; you pull up and the kids come running. You man the craft table, or wander with your camera taking pictures for the end-of-the-week slide show, or help Lauren organize kids for the skit, or play tag with Andrew. "Everything is base!" he says, running from tree to fence to post to bush. Then he grabs a branch off the bush and invents portable base. It's a rigged game, but Andrew's smile makes it worthwhile.
Craft table
Playing catch
Foursquare
Kickball
Fellow intern Scott
Story time
Andrew waits for his turn to come on stage
Tag with Andrew
One afternoon you have to call off a boy who liked to jump rope but kept jumping in out of turn and annoying the other kids who were jumping. Before you leave you learn that his name is Terrence and make a point of saying goodbye to him, hoping to have a better interaction to end the day on. "You're going?" he asks. "Who do you have to see now?" You tell him you're going back to the church where you are staying to eat dinner and spend the night. He doesn't want you to leave.
Face painting
Turning the jump rope
Terrence jumping
At 5:30 you pile into the vans and drive back to Madras. You arrive around 6:00 and hurry to unlock the kitchen door. You check the roaster, hoping dinner was cooking all day while you were gone. Scott and Lauren come in to help set drinks on the tables and get the buffet ready. You find serving spoons, cut the dessert, finish chopping things for the salad. Team members file in after cleaning up a bit, and you pray and they flood the buffet table, eagerly emptying bowls to fill their plates. You eat a quick dinner and supervise kitchen clean-up, go over your kitchen plan for the next day, chat with Scott and Lauren, or join the casual worship and sharing gathering. If you have time and are feeling brave and dirty, you head out to the shower trailer. There are no showers in the church, and the solution is a four shower head trailer with insufficient partitions and (supposedly) solar-heated drums. You wear a bathing suit and hold your breath as the cold water hits you; it's actually refreshing and feels especially clean to shower out under the open sky.
Checking out the shower trailer before we pulled out in Wapato
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