Remembering what I came here for

Written on October 24^th, 2010:

First of all, I realize that I haven’t written in about a month and a half (whoops!) but I promise that I’m working on it. In the meantime, I will say this – these past two months have offered a lot of time of self-reflection, often encouraged by books I’ve read, conversations with Rita and the other volunteers, e-mails and phone conversations from you back home, and tiny tidbits I’ve gathered from various other places.

Tonight, finding myself roommate-less and tired but content after a day full of pretty much non-stop reading with children of all ages, I took a moment to dig through the binder I’d brought with me from home – full of important letters and memories that I was sure I’d need at some time or other and I happened across this: a letter to myself written at the end of my freshman year that I thought I’d share.

Dear Keaton,

As your freshman year concludes at the University of Notre Dame I want you to be brutally aware of how very wonderful your life is. There have been a lot of moments over the past 9 months when you felt inadequate and unloved and not sure of yourself, but those were by and far just crazy moods. You are so lucky. Lucky to have such wonderful and caring people in your life, a marvelous education given to you purely out of love and of expectation that you will take that education and do something meaningful with it. Remember that expectation. It’s not pressure anyone’s putting on you, it’s an expression of faith your parents have given you to follow your dreams. What you ultimately determine as worthy of your dreams is up to you. But promise me that you will follow those dreams. And beyond that, promise that you will inspire others to do the same. As you grow and reflect on the life that you live I just want you to keep your eyes on the kind of person I know you want to be. You are often distracted by tiny, miniscule obstacles and simple mood swings. I’m here to tell you to overcome. Live moment to moment because to live in either the past or the future is to live outside of your control. Make every day worth living – even the not so great ones. (Especially the not so great ones.) Take a moment out of each and every day to make a memory and then record it. It will give you strength and help you to keep perspective. My final pleas to you are these: don’t let anyone (especially yourself) tell you that you are inadequate or unworthy and don’t ever forget your relationships and the people who have given your life purpose. Follow these guidelines and you will not only learn to love whatever is thrown at you, but you will brighten the lives of so many others.

--Yourself

I’m not sure if anyone wanted to read this, but it strikes me tonight, as I sit here in the darkness and solitude of the Purple House how important it is that I remember the things that I wrote that day. So much of what I said seems pertinent to my life here. The future that I referred to in that letter, the one that seemed so nebulous and in the distant future is here. And it’s time to live day-to-day in pursuit of my dreams. I’m not sure I’m doing a terribly great job of that, but I am encouraged by the idea that finding joy in small things, each day, makes a difference.

I also wanted to take this opportunity to say that I feel so, so blessed to have been surrounded by such wonderful people who constantly give me the encouragement I need to know that even when I feel like I’m failing, that there’s always a bright new tomorrow waiting to give me a second chance. (The children are also amazing at reminding me that though we must always make the most of now, tomorrow is always a new day.)

Alright, well I think that’s enough from me for one night. Thanks for reading, always. And thank you for believing in me – even when I’m not so sure I do. More coming soon!

--Auntie Keaton

I underdstand why people don't have 38 children (ha!)

Written on September 16th:

Every Friday and Saturday at Open Arms we have a movie night. We all bundle up into our PJs, bring our blankets, and snuggle into our cozy little TV room for a children’s movie. It is, without a doubt one of my favorite parts of the week. I always look forward to it, no matter what we’re watching, mostly because the kids will snuggle up in your lap and it’s just a peaceful time to simply enjoy their presence without the usual noise ;).

Last Friday’s movie night also brought an interesting revelation for me – we watched “Evan Almighty,” courtesy of Uncle Bobo and at one point God (Morgan Freeman) says to Evan’s wife: “When you pray for patience does God give you patience? Or does he give you opportunities to be patient?” And it really struck me how important it is for me to be aware of that notion – not only in terms of patience but with everything. Patience or love or forgiveness or anything worthwhile really isn’t just given to us…we have to work towards it. And the most that we can ask for is to be given the opportunity to become patient or loving or forgiving or whatever it is we’re looking to be.

I love Open Arms and I love the children here. I truly, truly do. There is no question about that ever, but that doesn’t mean that the children don’t ever drive me nuts. In fact, they often drive me nuts. But every day I’m learning that the appropriate answer to children banging on the Purple House door over and over and over again and shouting “Keaton! Keaton! KEAAATTTOONNN!!!” in increasing volumes when you’re just trying to escape for half an hour is to just smile and appreciate that they trust and love you enough to bother you all the time. Of course, this is not always my instant reaction…but I’m learning.

The past few weeks have certainly brought some trying moments and some wonderful moments…where to even begin?

I suppose my last entry ended just before Bob’s arrival. Now for those of you unfamiliar with Bob Solis, he is the founder of Open Arms and probably one of the most amazing people ever. The kids idolize him. The way they talk about him you’d think he was God. Truth is, I myself find myself in awe of him too. He and Rita just inspire me so much (but more on that later).

Leading up to Bobo’s visit (the kids call him Bobo), we were prepped by Rita for a whirlwind of activity. There were movies nearly every night, special treats, a trip to East London to see a movie, we went and got pizza, we took our Christmas photo (the kids rehearsed “We Wish You A Merry Christmas!” all week – pretty funny considering it was August!), and the kids could often be seen (and heard!) sitting in Bobo’s rental car honking the horn and pretending to drive. It truly was a blessed week of fun and laughter and chaos.

Having Bob here truly reminded me what beautiful things you can do with your life. It’s such a strange feeling to look around Open Arms and realize: this all started with one man’s great love. It really kind of blows your mind. A quote hangs in Rita’s office that reads: “We cannot do great things on this earth, only small things with great love” – Bob sure has some kind of great love.

One of the best parts of Bob’s visit came in the form of a trip to Butterworth, a town in the Transkei only about an hour from Komga in the opposite direction from East London. We took our school-aged children to the garbage dump there with boxes full of lunches we’d made the night before and handed them out to the people rooting through the garbage for food. It just broke your heart to see the kind of poverty that exists in our world. People eating garbage. Children eating garbage. The whole trip made my stomach churn with guilt and my mind churn with the great injustice of it all. How do we let people eat garbage? Live in dumps? Nobody should live that way. Once again I find myself humbled by the fact that I have been so ungrateful for all that I have. I vowed then to change and I vow now to change as well, but goodness knows it will be a slow process.

The end of Bob’s visit also marked the beginning of Rita’s month-long return to the United States to spend time with her family, meaning that Pat and I have been “in charge,” if you can believe it, for the past two and a half weeks. And let me tell you…it’s been quite the experience.

It started out very difficult. The kids tested our patience and boundaries in the first few days. I came home from taking one of our children to the clinic only to find large chunks of wood missing out of one of our picnic tables. It came out (after a whole lot of fussing) that two of our boys beat the table with a metal rod (which is now locked safely away in Rita’s office…). One of these two boys then proceeded to throw a tantrum, make threats, scream, throw things, the works, ending with me watching him for about an hour while he sat in bed. Of course this was the night I choose to get ill as well – go figure! But thankfully that was by far the most trying day I’ve had here thus far. This same boy has since (knock on wood!) been an angel (for the most part).

Needless to say the last few weeks have shown me what a saint Rita is. Pat and I get up at 5:45am every morning (those of you who have lived with me know that this is a difficult feat…) in order to set things out for the day, pray, and update the mamas on anything of importance. But while it’s kind of a pain to get up in the morning it also has been one of my greatest joys to be awake to see the kids off to school. Pat and I often comment how much we feel like the parents of 38 children as we stuff tissues in their pockets, force them to eat their vitamins, toss forgotten backpacks into the car, and wave goodbye as they head down the driveway.

Other highlights of the past few weeks have included a “rain dance” competition which essentially turned into a huge clapping, singing and dancing fest. Eventually it morphed into a circle of children and mamas in which the kids all took turn showing off their moves in. (Pat and I may or may not have joined in at one point…and there may or may not be a video of my solo that I sincerely hope is never released…). Another giant dance party took place out on the porch in which Auntie Elly taught the kids the Chacha Slide, the Chicken Dance, and Cotton-Eyed Joe. Sincerely good times! We’ve also taken several trips into Komga with the kids (mostly on the weekends). The post office has become a favorite (our children call all mail “e-mail” so it’s constantly: “I want to go to the e-mail…”!), and rides in the Quantum have recently become opportune times to shout at the top of our lungs. A chorus of “boys have cooties!” from the girls and “girls have cooties!” from the boys was a personal favorite…

The kids, haven’t disappointed with the quantity and quality of their ridiculous statements as well...so I’ll share just a few of them --

While Bob was explaining the new electric fence we’ve put into the kids misheard him when he

said that the fence would be “giving you a shock” but instead heard “turning you into a shark!” (needless to say they were very confused!) I just thought it was hysterical!

Bob also showed us a number of pictures from various powerpoint presentations he’s made about Open Arms over the years and one of the pictures happened to be of Father Sorin. He asked the kids (and Pat and I) if we could tell him who that was and one of the kids shouted: “Is he a wizard?!” For the next few days he kept bringing up “the wizard” from the PowerPoint and it still cracks me up to this day!

Pat and I also made a purchase of 48 squat bottles of soda called Chubby’s (but which we refer to as Chubbas) in order for the children to make them into mini piggy banks. We gave the kids some of the orange soda ones but thought it best not to give them caffeine. Unfortunately most of them saw that we had cola-flavored ones which they refer to as “black juice.” One of our children (the one who always has something to say!) asked me over and over and over again if he could have one and I kept telling him “no, no…it has caffeine in it…trust me you don’t need any caffeine!” He would ask why and I would say “because you’d be bouncing off the walls!” He seemed to forget about the soda for a while but then later that night bounded in front of me, looked up at me with his cute little puppy dog eyes and said: “Auntie Keaton, can I please have a black juice? I promise I won’t spin around!!” I’m not sure just why this was so hilarious but it totally was!! Ah, just love these kids.

Another little boy, the little charmer as I like to call him, said he was going to stare at the TV all day (as I’d just turned it off) so I told him: “I’m going to stare at you all day because you’re just so cute!” He let out the most hilarious little giggle, scrunched up his face as if he’d smelled something smelly and said “I don’t want to be cccccccccute!!!!” I nearly died – it was too precious.

The month of September has also marked the arrival of a new child! A brand one year old (two in December!). He’s super cute and fits in perfectly with the children already! He’s attached at the hip to one of our 8 year-old girls and one of our 5 year-old boys ran up to me the night that he got here and shouted (he pretty much always shouts everything…): “The new boy! He looks just like me!!” (And he kind of does!)

I know that I frequently call things my favorite, but here’s another “favorite” to add to the list! I’ve gotten in the habit of reading a story to at least one of the houses at night and it’s amazing. Last night I had told the little boys’ house (the New House) that I would “read” them a counting book since they’ve been having trouble with their numbers at school. They went bananas (as usual) and loved the counting which was wonderful to witness, but the best part was at the end! When I’d finished reading they all dog piled on top of me and gave me kisses on the cheek until I finally was able to escape! (It took a while, let me tell you!) Mama walked in and laughed because they seriously were just piled on top of me! Then as I was leaving the tiniest little 5 year-old we had landed one on my mouth and declared: “I kissed you! We’re getting married!!”…Good way to end the night!

Ah! Pat also finally learned to drive the buckey (Rita’s truck) the other day! So as a means of celebrating, Pat, Elly, and I hopped into the truck one night and went into town to get some ice cream (mmm..so delicious!). When he was trying to reverse it out of the garage, however, a few of the kids “discovered us.” It was one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen: one of our boys’ jaws dropped to the ground. I mean he just gaped at us with mouth open for about 30 seconds. It was just like in the movies. When he finally recovered from his shock he shouted: “You’re stealing Auntie Rita’s buckey?!?!” I will forever have that image of him stuck in my mind (or at least I hope so!). He really thought we were stealing the car…

Ah, Open Arms.

Essentially, life at Open Arms is constantly an adventure. In my interview Bob asked me how I felt about monotony. Life there consists of the same thing day after day, he said. And it’s true, each day is a similar schedule. But regardless every day brings new escapades, whether it’s something funny that the kids say, some crazy misunderstanding due to the language barrier, or a wild trip into town (even trips into the library for a half an hour become somehow eventful!). And yes, I get impatient, and frustrated, especially when six kids shout at me about six different things all at the same time (like they did just this morning!) – but dancing to “I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it!” when they get home from school and singing “I’m H-A-P-P-Y! I’m H-A-P-P-Y! I know I am, I’m sure I am, I’m H-A-P-P-Y!” before the day’s up, and swinging them around in circles, and baking cookies with them, and seeing their face light up when they manage a hard math problem make it worthwhile.

And I’m sorry if these blogs are getting repetitive. I know they probably are, but it’s always good to share these experiences if for no other reason that when I speak to people about my time here I am better able to process the whole experience.

So thank you for reading. Bless your hearts for staying in touch and for being a part of my life. If there’s one thing I’m learning here above all else it’s that love has power we will never fully understand. But when you give it freely, there are beautiful ramifications. And just to clear things up, I’m not referring to myself here – the kids know better than anyone how to love freely. And every time I feel down on myself about not doing enough here or not being the best that I can be, they hug me or blow me a kiss, or say “I love you” or tickle me, and they point me right back to that quote that hangs in Rita’s office:

“We cannot do great things, only small things with great love.” –Mother Theresa

This is an outrageously long post -- playing catch up

Wow, so it’s been a real long time since I’ve recorded what actually happening at Open Arms! As you can tell by my last few posts I’ve been keeping myself occupied (as usual) by musing and reflecting about life here but I’ll try to stick to reporting the more factual events this time around.

Alright, well my last post about actual events was on July 23rd…so what’s happened since then?

Well, according to my journal (thank you Notre Dame service send off!) I awoke early on July 24th to the sound of screaming children and a vuvuzela (thanks again Uncle Zach for that precious gift…it has since been destroyed and Pat and I couldn’t be happier ;). It really is funny how I’ve discovered, looking back, that it’s the little thing sin life that consume the pages of my journal. For instance on July 26th I wrote about the mini dance party that happened in the crèche before the day’s activities began. It was such a blast! We blared the High School Musical 2 soundtrack (an Open Arm’s favorite) and just…danced. Eleven, beautiful, hilarious children and I bopped around for about fifteen minutes and it was for sure one of the major highlights of my day! Similarly a few days before that my journal entry was pretty much exclusively about watching two of our boys dance during crazy hour – picture one four year-old thrusting his hips madly to the other children singing about Jesus while another just lifts his stiff leg up and down to the beat. Seriously too much!

Ah, but so much has happened since my last entry I’d better not get too caught up in individual dances and such (although goodness knows I’ll fall back into that in just a few paragraphs!).

Since my last entry so many volunteers have come and gone it’s gotten hard to keep track of who came and left when. It’s actually a pretty bizarre feeling to realize that within the span of a month and a half I’ve had to say goodbye to Zach, Caitlin, Kaitlyn, Elyssa, Erin, Liane, Susan, Mary, and (beautiful auntie) Wendy. But rest assured they have all left an indelible mark. Saying goodbye to Auntie Elyssa certainly marked the end of an era for me as well as she was the last to leave of the volunteers that were here when I arrived over two months ago. Luckily Elyssa didn’t have to leave before we could celebrate her 21st birthday with a roaring bonfire, delicious s’mores (reminded me of s’mores in Australia with Bianca!), and hilarious conversations underneath a stunning moon.

In the past two days we have also been fortunate enough to have two new volunteers: Auntie Katie from Germany and Auntie Elly from the States. (Thank you to them for giving me some roommates in the Purple House! – it was so weird to be there by myself!).

The past month or so has also included a few trips in various forms for the volunteers and I. Pat, Liane, Erin, Susan, and I made it to a South Africa must on August 2nd – a game reserve! (By the sounds of it most of you have seen the brilliant pictures via Erin’s facebook but I’ll talk a bit about it nonetheless!). The “safari” we went on was a mere 30 minutes away from Open Arms at a place called Inkenkwezi and man was it awesome! (I know I overuse the word “awesome,” but this truly was awesome!) We saw all kinds of animals including: blessed buck, wildebeests, (white) rhinos, impala, giraffes, zebras, ostriches, kudu, monkeys, elephants, lions, and cheetahs! I wrote six pages on all that we learned about these animals in my journal but maybe I shouldn’t bother you with all the details? The gist is just this: it was sweet! We were about 10 feet away at one point from one of only 60 white lion males (two others were just a few feet further). There were also about half a dozen baby lions and a female lion. It was such a bizarre feeling to be so close! We were also lucky to see the white rhinos (given their name not because of their color but actually as a mistranslation of the word “wide”) since they were the only two on the reserve! We also got to go pet the cheetahs which was crazy! They’re seriously just like giant cats -- and that may seem like a “duh” statement but you should hear them purr!!

Pat and I were also lucky enough to be invited up to Grahamstown to stay with Rosie at Rhodes University which was an absolute blast! We got to watch her hockey tournament (Tri-varsity) in Port Elizabeth (they played great!) and Pat and I got a glimpse at one of the most awesome trends – all the students have matching coveralls that they decorate for their school. It’s hilarious and there are some pretty sweet designs!! The weekend was supremely great though. It was so nice to see Rosie, meet lots of her friends, hang out, check out a South African university (it actually reminded us a lot of Notre Dame!), and really just get away from Open Arms for a bit. (As much as I love it, it was nice to have a short break!). We were supposed to leave on Sunday morning but we happened to discover that we weren’t, in fact, in America anymore and found that all the busses left at the exact same time (3 hours before we started looking for one). We spent most of that afternoon calling every bus company we could (most didn’t answer or answered once then not the other times), checking out the internet (amidst frequent power outages), and failing to be able to pay for any of them due to our lack of South African credit cards. Fortunately Rosie was nice enough to put us up for another night and it turned out to be glorious and just what we needed. (Thanks Auntie Roses!! That was a great weekend!)

Other travels included a day long “getaway” into East London with Auntie Rita where we spent the morning running errands, shopping, and seeing the movie Inception (which I thought would be a break from having to think – but it turns out you have to think even more than usual while watching that movie!). In any case, it was a tremendous day out (although we did return to a food fight later that night – Shepherd’s pie everywhere! – why you would waste that delicious meal I can’t fathom!!)

But speaking of food, in the past two (+) months I have come to greatly appreciate a few culinary (and not-so-culinary) items. Tex Bars (you were right Caitlin, they’re delicious!), Lunch Bars (I have one stashed away for an emergency now), All Sorts (black licorice flavored candy that will have to take the place of Good and Plentys for a bit!), Niki Bars (thanks Auntie Roses!), and PS Bars (yum!!). Those have most definitely taken up a good chunk of my budget lately. (I’m trying to call it quits quite unsuccessfully…). And while I will never be able to replace Memphis Meltdowns (the best ice cream ever!) Magnum Death by Chocolates and Heaven Brownie Bars do the trick just fine! Surprisingly I have also come to adore beets! They are so good and I always go for seconds when I can! I have a love-hate relationship with butternut squash (which we have all the time) but I usually force myself to eat my entire helping of it because I know it’s so good for you – it’s starting to get easier to chock it down (though not much!). Of course, nothing will ever be able to rival fat cakes in my opinion (delicious homemade fried dough filled with mince meat or honey – so good!!).

Of course, while I started writing this I also happened to be scarfing down a box of…get this…TimTams!! which Pat and I discovered at a store that sells foreign goods! (Oh how I miss Australia!)

Alright, well I actually need to stop writing about food now since I realize that all I’ve been doing is eating and there has been relatively little working out to counteract it lately (sorry dad! – I’ll work on it!!). This wasn’t always the case though. One day I even worked out three times in one day including a Pilates class that proved to me how very inflexible I am, and ab workout, and a run down to the train tracks with Elyssa and Liane (going up our beast of a hill!).

Ok, but we all know the real reason that people read this blow is to hear more about the children – so back to them! The children, as per usual, have brought out all ranges of emotions in me. They are constantly proving to me that life is full of love, laughter, disappointment, anger, happiness, sadness, and everything in between but that all that is important is that we cherish the laughter, love, and happiness the most! Among my favorite moments with the children in the past month have been a few good quotes and conversations that I’ve written in my journal, my favorite of which took place one morning in the crèche. It seriously just cracks me up! Christine, the crèche teacher I work with, and I were explaining to the children what stars are and the conversation went a little something like this:

Christine: Where do we find the stars?

Kids: Moon! The moon!

Christine: OK, yes, where are the stars and the moon?

Kids: The sun!! Sun! The sun!

Christine: Ok, the sun, the moon, and the stars are where?

Kids: Goat! Orange! Horse!!

(I kid you not, those were actual answers!) Boy oh boy do I love these kids!

Despite the ridiculous answers given by the children in this instance, I’m actually finding my work with them to be rather rewarding and I think we’re making great progress! Two weeks ago Christine had me prepare a short activity regarding the planets, sun, and moon for the afternoons which I absolutely loved! We finally put (one of) our failed piñatas to good use by using red and yellow handprints to turn it into the sun! I was so impressed by the kids’ willingness to sit still and wait for their turn to paint!! (This, if you couldn’t tell, is a pretty difficult task!)

Working with the three girls that we wanted to get into school has also been extremely rewarding. Liane, a volunteer and (former?) kindergarten/fourth grade teacher started working with the girls in the morning along with me and got two of them to memorize their alphabet perfectly! (The other is a little further behind but making tremendous progress!). We’ve also been working on the girls’ English which is getting to be much better! (One of them has been dazzling us by asking questions in full sentences! – although it should be noted that frequently one of the girls would answer “pink” as her favorite food and animal…woops! We’re working on it…). The good news is…drum roll please!...the girls had their first day of school this past Wednesday!! I couldn’t have been more prouder of them! They were thrilled when we told them (they were in the bathtub at the time so there were lots of wet high fives!). Ah, I do miss teaching them, but what a joy to see them come home from school!! It melts your heart (I know, I know, most everything here does!)

Of course, education has always been near and dear to my heart (mostly due to my parents’ incredible and unwavering dedication to Reed and my education), but I find that here it’s becoming more and more apparent how extremely important it is. Working with the girls and in the crèche has, of course, given me some insights into how important it really is, but there have also been several other events that have really brought it all into perspective.

First, a meeting at that Rita, Liane, Pat and I attended a few weeks ago at one of the schools (11 of our children attend this school). We went to this meeting prepared for a parent-teacher type meeting but instead found ourselves listening to the principal address the parents about the school’s budget – or lack thereof. The principal was literally having to pay for a few of the teachers’ salaries out of his pocket, not to mention other expenses. Ultimately he looked around at the parents gathered there (only about 40 or so for 800 children at the school!) and was asking for a way to raise money. He suggested that all parents donate R50 per child but it was clear that he wasn’t going to get all (or even most) of the parents on board for that. Just to put that into perspective, that’s roughly $7 per child. He couldn’t get $7 per child. Wow. That hit home. It just makes you so endlessly sad. Seven dollars. Just let that sink in for a second. As if that weren’t uncomfortable enough to here, it did, in fact, get a little more uncomfortable for us when he looked right at us and suggested we get help from “overseas.” (We’re not really sure he understands that as a privately-funded home we work hard to fundraise just to raise our children,. However, the lovely and talented Liane was able to raise some funds from home to donate to the school as well as Open Arms, so that was wonderful!)

Ah yes, and I can’t go without mentioning the opening to the meeting. The principal opened with, I kid you not: “If you’re wondering who these white folk are they’re from Open Arms…we only have black children at our school.” We’re still not exactly sure why he felt the need to say that to us but oh well…

That meeting was incredibly eye-opening for me, without a doubt, but what’s even sadder is what has been going on the past few weeks: major strikes. Now I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know much about strikes in the States – but this one going is ridiculous. It’s anyone’s best guess as to whether or not our kids will be sent home from school because no teachers are there. (Now, granted, there’s always a chance their won’t be teachers there even when the teachers aren’t striking…don’t get me started…but still!). Our children at the school I mentioned before have been home for a week straight now. But what’s worse than them being sent home is that around the Eastern Cape these people on strike are literally threatening to burn down schools, preventing students from going in, even stealing busses and throwing rocks at their windows. I mean seriously! It makes you sick – here are teachers, the people who are supposed to take care and educate our children and this is how they’re behaving!! Are our children supposed to destroy busses when they don’t get their way?! I hope not! They’re even preventing teachers from going into school that want to be there! Ok, now that said, I understand that they want higher wages, that lots of people need to make ends meet, but just the way they’re going about it…And of course Americans do things like this all the time, it’s just that I’ve never seen it so first hand before. Sorry, of course it’s only a select few that are doing the terrorizing so there’s no need to be upset with everyone but I think you get the gist.

Fortunately I got to see another side of education in South Africa (and in Komga in particular) by going to school with one of our girls who tested into a more elite school this year. Her teacher is a good friend of Rita’s and Open Arms and was so incredibly welcoming, helpful, and kind to me! The school was incredible! Just a beautiful little campus with great opportunities (especially for sport!), a wonderful principal, and great teachers. I had a blast helping the teacher grade papers, listen to her lecture, talk with the principal, and get into a lovely discussion about the distinctions between the South African and American educational systems. I seriously want all our children to go to this school, but unfortunately they have to cap their enrollment at 30 students per class because while they are a “semi-public” school they only receive funding for the teachers’ salaries and nothing else. Meaning students must apply to get in and have to pay tuition as well.

Rest assured, I am now more thankful than ever to have been given such a glorious and in-depth education with so many qualified, dedicated, and compassionate teachers and professors. (Thanks mom and dad, first and foremost for that!)

Other news from this past month? There’s so much….some funny things:
Women’s Day – the kids got the day off from school but as far as I can tell there is absolutely no known celebration for this holiday. Funny note on women as well, one day we heard a song on the radio that went a little something like this: “As a woman I’ve been told my place is in the kitchen…as a woman I work hard for the man to get the glory…” (We kept expecting her to continue onto something like “I won’t do it!” but nope…).

Having been in south African for over two months now I am also starting to realize that some things are just different here. For one, they operate on much different business practices and schedules. One day, I kid you not, we went to the post office during their regular hours and it was just closed. No explanation. Ok, fine, so we then proceeded to the library where a sign was hung: “Sorry, we will be closed on (the day’s date).” No explanation either. Then we drove up to the jail to let the kids see. Gate closed. Seriously people! Haha, oh dear. I suppose we all need a little time off, eh?

Of course, all that said I do love South Africa very much. The people that I have encountered and spent time with here are tremendously kind and welcoming! I am constantly astounded by the generosity of complete strangers who help at the home, offer to spend time with Pat and I should we ever need a break, or just smile and give you a hug.

Another thing I love about South Africa, and particularly the Eastern Cape is the Xhosa language. Goodness knows I will never be able to speak it, but I’m trying to pick up a few phrases each week to add to my repertoire. So far I can mispronounce the following: sit down, be quiet, listen, I’m cold, I’m hot, where’s (insert name)?, I’m hungry, look over there, I’m going to hit, hello, how are you, good, and thank you! The kids always make fun of use when we speak because we can’t click properly…one day I’ll get it! One of my favorite mamas (shh, don’t tell the others!), also recently attempted to teach me to make dough so that was great! She also taught me how to pour our milk without spilling (every time I would pour the milk out it would slosh all over the place but I haven’t spilled since she taught me!! So exciting!)

In other news, I fear that I’m going to be exposed to thousands upon thousands of hours of Dave Matthew music – it’s all Pat listens to, bless his heart! It got to the point where, when asked what kind of music we wanted to listen to, Liane and I simply responded in unison: “Anything but Dave.” – (If Pat ever read this though, I will admit it is growing on me.) Poor Uncle Pat, he’s had to spend much too much time with me!

Sorry, I know this is extremely length – my sincerest apologies, but I just want to paint a picture of what it’s like here on a daily basis: which is always an adventure, even when it seems like we do the same things again and again.

One of my favorite events of the past two months came in the form of a baby goat. The kids found the tiniest little baby goat you’ve ever seen wandering around the yard, abandoned by it’s mother. Pat was then put in charge of finding it’s family but none such luck. It was so heartbreaking to listen to it bleat for it’s mother. It would scream so loudly it’s voice would crack every time and it sounded just like a child screaming. Pat and I (along with the children) wanted desperately to keep him, but for obvious reasons we couldn’t. We eventually called our dear neighbor who, bless his heart, is always helping us out with things big and small and told him “Uh, we have a little dilemma.” Needless to say the name stuck, so now we refer to the little guy as “Dilemma.” Little Dilemma currently is still residing up at our neighbor’s house, so hopefully we can go visit him every now and again!

Some other funny things: the kids referred to me one night as “that chubby girl from High School movie.” Needless to say my self-confidence is in need of bulking up since the kids here have no filter for comments like “hey, what’s that one your face?,” “you smell bad!!,” or “your legs are hairy!” (among other things of the like). Another child, the one that is constantly dancing (so cute!) wore snap together jeans the other day that I swear I found unsnapped no less than five times that day – which doesn’t sound that funny except when they were unsnapped they looked like a long jean skirt. Such a funny sight! Of course there are always “poofy” (their word for poop) incidents here are Open Arms. One day one of our younger children, in protest of being punished, poofied on the floor only to have one of our babies put both hands in it and smear it on herself. (Thankfully I wasn’t a witness to this and only heard stories later!). One of our chattiest children, brother to one of our least chatty children, also was talking non-stop one night so I asked him how he was related to his sister; without missing a beat he answered “My sister says I should talk as much as possible and as loud as possible!” and then he just smiled and kept going. Ah, love him! I also just love joking around with the kids. One Saturday, after being told sixteen thousand times “I want to go to playroom!” I asked one of our children what day it was (his day is Monday). He, of course, responded: “Monday!” so I put on a shocked face and said “Oh no!! It’s Monday!! What are you children doing at home?!” We then proceeded to run around Open Arms telling Mamas, children, and volunteers that we’d forgotten to take everyone to school as it was Monday. He giggled the whole time and it absolutely reminded me why I love kids. One of the things I also love the most about Open Arms is sitting at the volunteer table and hearing one of our two year-olds singing faintly to herself in the other room “everywhere we go-oh!…everywhere we go-oh!…everywhere we go-oh!” over and over again.

Alright, well there are many more stories, little and big, that I can share with you but I realize that I am going on page 6 of my word document so I think I’d better start wrapping it up – my sincerest apologies! For those of you that have made it this far…thank you! And I’ll try not to do it again!

Thanks for reading! It took me so long to get through this post that I won’t even get into Bob’s visit, Rita going home (and all the adventures that has brought), and some gnawing questions about my time here. More soon. I will try to update every week or so with short posts, but feel free to e-mail me at any time as well. And please, please, please sent me updated about you!! I want to hear everything that’s been going on!! My life is often consumed by the going-ons at Open Arms and it’s such a delight and pleasure to hear what you all have been up to!!!

Things I love about Open Arms

Written on August 13^th, 2010:

In an attempt to get one of the girls to talk in more positive terms I told her that often I like to take time to write out everything that I like about where I am. (Where I am physically, emotionally, in life, with my friends, you name it…). And while it may not have gone entirely as planned in terms of our conversation, it did remind me that it’s about time I take stock of the things that I love at Open Arms – and in this case, share those with you.

I’ll try to keep this to a (somewhat) reasonable length but we all know that I’m not one for few words. Especially when it comes to this blog so here goes!

Things I like (but really I mean love) about Open Arms (in no particular order):

The children (first and foremost). The stunning stars at night. Eating Milo cereal every morning. The incredible people that come here to volunteer. The purple house. Kids falling asleep on my lap during movie night. Goodnight hugs and kisses. Throwing the babies up in the air. Seeing our one year-old smile. The mamas’ mac n’ cheese. Going to Auntie Ruth’s. Dancing in the crèche. The collage I made of my friends and family. Flipping through the pages of my (nearly full) journal. Watching one little girl’s head pop up from behind the counter. Hearing the word “Kea-ten!” shouted from just about anywhere. Smiles. Finishing a book with one of the kids. Getting cards from the kids. Talking about life with the other volunteers. Watching Auntie Rita in action. Listening to the CD Rosie made us. Long car rides. South African sunrises and sunsets. Making it up the hill to Open Arms on our (few and far between) runs. Heaven Bars, Magnum Bars, Tex Bars and Lunch Bars. Imitating the children with their thick South African accents: “Pickmeup!.” “Whatsyoname?!” Funny language barriers. Seeing the kids wearing my sweatshirt. Hearing one of the girls we’re teaching ask a perfectly-formed question in English without being prompted. Sloppy, wet kisses. More smiles. The hilarious things that the kids say. Telling the kids about the charms on my necklace. The kids singing (and dancing!) at church. Giving piggyback rides (shh, don’t tell them!). Watching How I Met Your Mother with the other volunteers. Mug cake (good or bad!). Getting to wear sweatpants whenever I like. Baking with the kids. Tiny clothes. Tiny shoes. Fat cakes. My South African stunna shades (thanks again Caitlin, Kaitlyn, and Elyssa!). E-mails from my friends and family. Reviewing my pictures. Steri Stemple chocolate milk. Being the cause of one of those million dollar smiles. Laughter. Girls night. Having one of the boys ask: “How did you learn to play soccer?.” Stunned faces when I take them by surprise. Tickling them. Hearing one of the two year olds sing “Everywhere we go” over and over…and over again. Realizing I’ve now memorized the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse CD almost completely. Watching Cars with a few kids in my lap. One of the girls constantly shaking out her blanket. The constant talk about “poofy.” My conversations with the oldest child at Open Arms. Reflecting on my life. Pushing myself. Talking to Auntie Rita. Talking to Auntie Jeanine. Feeling like I’m making a difference. Coming up with new ideas to make this place better. Auntie Roses. Dominoes. Laughing with and at Uncle Pat. The trees. The swing set. “Wee.” Remembering I’m in Africa. The goats. Liane laughing so hard she snorts. Silly stories. Komga. Mpshane. Inkwenkwezi. The sweet animals. Braais. Finding out I’ve been spelling everything wrong since day 1. Festival. Bringing my Notre Dame blanket all the way across the world. Talking about Notre Dame (constantly). Hot chocolate. The nargi (sp?) tree. Going to Esme’s. Talking on the phone on Bob’s porch (or the blue house porch). More hugs. More smiles. Snack time. Crazy hour (yes, even crazy hour). Teasing the oldest kids. Learning clapping games. Making up not-so-secret handshakes. Getting fist bumps from the two year-olds. Hearing “Whatsyoname?Keaten!” (no pause in between). Sitting up late at night writing my blog. My bunk bed. Getting mail. Taking pictures. Small battles. Having the mamas teach me Xhosa. Trying and majorly failing to speak Xhosa properly. Hearing “little lady” or “madame” said by one of our older boys. Backwards hats on the kids. Having the kids say “Go Irish!” (or ask if I go to “Go Irish”). Hearing about how the kids have changed (in positive ways). South African accents. Meeting new people. Putting my hand out in front of a kids mouth and them knowing that means “spit it out” even without any words. Petting cheetahs. Seeing giraffes and lions and all sorts of things I’ve never seen before. The box of things we have collected from children’s mouths (shocking what’s in there!). Playing Pictionary-telephone with an Open Arms theme. Reading. Writing in my journal. Cottage pie. Tuna salad. Homemade bread. That’s what she saids. The kids singing. Birthdays. Bonfires. Storytime. Singing in the crèche. Helping the kids paint. Drawing portraits of the kids. The South African flag. Doing craft projects in the crèche. Hearing about school. The kids’ names. Feeling like even after only two months that I’ve lived here all my life. Falling in love with so many little things it’s hard to name them all.

I could go on (and undoubtedly in the near future I will), but for now I’d prefer to end with the quote hanging beside my bed (thanks Nicole!):

“It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it’s the journey that matters in the end.” –Ursula LeGuin. Here’s to the journey!

Sometimes the tears come and sometimes this don't

Beware, this is actually two posts in one (written on separate days):

Written on July 30th, 2010:

The other day I sat and watched as tears silently streamed down a five year-old boy’s face, thumb in mouth, for thirty minutes. At the time I wondered why I couldn’t muster any tears for him. I wanted desperately to stop the whimpering, to hold him in my arms and find the words that would make everything he’d experience in this seemingly cruel world he lives seem just a little bit more hopeful. And yet, I couldn’t shed a single tear. None were even close to forming. I sat, mouth closed, reminding myself that sometimes we all just need a good cry, and waited. Eventually the crying did stop. Auntie Rita, the miracle worker, was able to remedy the situation and afterwards we briefly pow-wowed on what had happened. It turned out it had been a mere mix-up with the distribution of new clothes (this particular boy hadn’t been given new shoes) – something fairly trivial in comparison to what these children have already dealt with in their young lives. And yet, while Rita and I talked over the incident, I felt my voice crack just a little. Rita might not have even noticed, but I could feel the tears welling up deep inside. And tonight, hours later, after dinner, a little relaxation, a little more work, watching 30 minutes of Braveheart, and doing some planning with Pat, I sit here on my bunk bed and I can feel the tears welling up slowly. I don’t think I’ll cry, at least not the full-on crying anyone reading this blog knows I’m capable of, but I feel the emotions slowly building up. And so I sit here and think it through and here’s what I’ve come up with…

I’m ashamed to say it, but it’s easy, being here 24 hours a day, 7 days a week (for the most part), to forget that these kids lived in destitute conditions, that some of them are HIV positive, that some have parents who love them mere hours away but aren’t, for some reason or another, able to care for them, that some of these children were literally abandoned in dumpsters, on street corners, sometimes even multiple times. When you battle with them over silly things like who gets to ride the bike first or who swore or hit who first (“it doesn’t matter who hit who first!”), it really becomes second nature to treat them as you were treated, like a child who has been given the world but instead chooses to focus on the little negatives in the world. But the truth of the matter is, these children have been given little to nothing and still manage to take the big negatives in their lives and chose instead to focus on the small things, on battling for a volunteer’s knee to sit on, on begging and pleading to have an extra 35 minutes in the playroom. And so slowly these kids creep into my heart. They’re infiltrating and even when I have a headache from the constant screeches of “can I go the new playroom?!” (I hear this at least 200 times a go) or cringe when a kid shouts “I hope you go back to America tomorrow!” I know that this is where I’m supposed to be and these are the kids that I’m supposed to be with.

It’s not easy, I’ll admit. Talking to (beautiful) Auntie Wendy just minutes ago I commented on how I prior to coming here I had thought I was a patient person. (After meeting Rita, I realize I, in fact, have a long, long ways to go.) Sometimes I find myself clenching my teeth at a child who just won’t listen. Sometimes there are mass time-outs. Sometimes I just escape to the solitude of my room to write or read or nap or just be away from the children. Sometimes I count down the minutes until they go to bed. But ultimately, as I remind myself every night when I write in my journal – there are also times like this morning, when I watched one of our 11 year-olds, a spunky boy with a great big smile and a passion for the dramatic, sing loudly in church and I actually had tears in my eyes. These kids. These kids blowing kisses, dancing with silly little mechanical-looking pelvic thrusts, shouting “Hi Kea-ten!” and helping me make popcorn (snack on Saturday nights), mean the world to me.

And these kids; they’re scared, they’re confused, they’re behind in school, and they’re often misbehaved (“Now was that bad behavior or good behavior?”). They rejoice in small victories (a few math problems, on remembering what day they get to go to playroom), and they mope about the most insignificant things. They threaten “I’m going to kick you!” one second only to hug you around the waist and demand that you never leave the next. Life is so full of emotions here – it’s a daily reminder that life is meant to be felt. These kids. Let me tell you, they know how to feel.

Written on August 2nd, 2010:

I realize I’m posting these in the same day but realize that these posts are actually from separate days. What you’re getting is a snapshot of a few days in a row of thinking through my thoughts feelings, and emotions gradually.

So my apologies for the multiple entries, but I think it’s important that they’re all recorded, and I suppose they needn’t necessarily be shared, but if you, my family and friends, would like to take a glimpse into what it’s like for me to be here, (everyone here is having a different experience) then I’m happy to share.

And while I’m happy to share, I must also admit that I’m finding the words hard to come by at the moment. Tonight marked an important milestone in my time at Open Arms: the first time I’ve truly felt like crying (besides my first day here, but we’ll just chock that up to a big change and jet lag). I won’t go into the circumstances too much since I believe fully and completely in the confidentiality of the child, but basically tonight, I was faced with the heavy reality of what these children have lived with.

Tonight, I sat with a child who was afraid to go back to his house alone. Now, if there’s one thing I understand, it’s the fear of being alone. I not-so-vaguely recall being home alone for two nights while my parents were in Ireland (and Reed was up in Washington visiting friends). I was twenty years old, living in a secure house in a safe neighborhood, and still I left the lights on and hardly slept a wink. Being alone (especially at night) was just downright scary to me. I had visions of murderers and burglars and goodness knows what kind of monstrous people flashing through my head. I could imagine men climbing the stairs and people surveying the house for the best time to break in. And this, all at twenty. In a secure house in a nice neighborhood.

So tonight, looking at this 11 year-old boy’s eyes as we sat outside on the brick-rimmed herb garden, I seriously wanted to break down and cry. I watched the tears well up in his eyes as the tears welled up in mine and I was grateful it was dark and that he wouldn’t look me directly in the eye. In fact, he never allowed the tears to come freely, nor did I, but silently my heart was breaking for him.

I can’t even begin to fathom what he’s been through in his short life. Orphaned, bounced around, and God knows what else, I couldn’t help but picture this boy as terrified as I had been imagining scary things. Only he’s been through these scary things. Granted, I don’t know what he’s been through. We have our guesses, but the truth is we don’t really know. But regardless, as he vehemently backpedals and denies he was ever scared, I know he’s witnessed a terribly cruel reality that I can’t even begin to understand. And so the tears build up. And I am aware that one day they’re all going to come rushing out. But for now, I’ll leave it at this: I have to be someone steady, someone reliable, someone strong, someone understanding in their lives. Because growing up is scary without the justification of fear.

Bless these kids’ hearts.

One word: grateful

Written on July 23rd, 2010:

As is typical of my musings, I sit here in the darkness of the purple house way past my bedtime (which has been steadily getting earlier and earlier...I suppose I really am not in college any more!) listening to the (awesome) CD that Rosie gave us and thinking over the past month and a half and the future ten months I’ll be here. And I feel that the only word to describe how I feel right now is this one: grateful.

Tonight Pat and I had a short meeting with Rita to discuss some of the projects that we want to get under way starting this weekend. Towards the end of our conversation Rita expressed her gratitude at our being here, but as she thanked us all I could think was “this thank you is so backwards” – I feel so blessed to be here.

The past two weeks since my last blog entry have been fantastic. (Tom, please note that I used the word thesaurus for “wonderful” on that one – I’ve been told I use that word much too often.) Where to begin recapping the last ten days?

As I mentioned in my last blog entry I have now begun a new schedule with the kids. I start each (weekday) morning with the three five year-old girls who need to improve their English which is at once incredibly rewarding, and frustrating (but ultimately more rewarding than frustrating). We’re currently working on letter identification and have since mastered the letters A, B, C, D, E, and F! (My greatest triumph came last night when Caitlin mentioned that one of the girls, one of my not-so-secret-favorites, came up to her and correctly identified a C and an E on her shirt!) Working with the girls has pushed me to try to be more creative in a lot of ways too – we work a lot with foam letters but we’ve also worked with chalk boards, sticks, paper, books, and our fingers. We’ll see how things go…a work in progress certainly!

In the afternoons the three girls and I join the four year-olds in the crèche (our on-site preschool) and do a craft project. This I love! The past few days the kids have been making clay fish and painting and decorating them with an atrocious amount of glitter! It really is pretty precious. They have also taken to having me lead them in rendition after rendition of the song “Everywhere we go – everywhere we go-oh! – People wanna know-oh! – People wanna know-oh!...” from Remember the Titans. (Only in their version they sing “we are Open Arms…mighty, mighty Open Arms. It really is too, too cute!) They seriously make me sing it about 20 times a day…Another favorite song that I get requests for (a lot, especially during crazy hour) is “Who Took the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?” They love that song. And they always crack up when I accuse them of taking the cookie, except one of the toddlers who burst in to tears once when she thought we were actually accusing her of taking a cookie (woops!). Singing really has become an integral part of life here (and yes, I remain musically challenged) – some of the kids really took to breaking into “Happy Birthday Kea-ten” over and over again (and I do mean just that verse). It was pretty funny! (It wasn’t even my birthday yet mind you!)

In any case, after crèche ends I start my playroom duties, which involves, as I mentioned, taking the children in one at a time into the playroom. It’s part of a their play therapy time which I’ve started to read up on quite a bit. I’ll suffice it to say that it’s extremely interesting the things that they do and say when they’re on their own and allowed to do what they want. It certainly has been a very rewarding process thus far, albeit a long and tiring one – there are 25 kids a week that cycle through the playroom.

But rest assured, the days at Open Arms aren’t all work. As volunteers we make a point to have a great time both while the kids are awake but also when they go to bed. One of my favorite nights to date at Open Arms was the night that we all gathered in the purple house (with Rosie) to play dominoes (a new favorite), Pictionary telephone (an ND favorite – thanks for teaching me guys!), and Who, what, when, where, why (I’d never played that before!). It was hysterical! Especially since most of our games were centered around events at Open Arms (kids falling into the pool, silly quotes, and of course lots about uncle Zach). We also found time to take a much needed break from the home to spend the day out at a game reserve with a friend of Rita’s, uncle James, having a “bry” (I’m sure I’m butchering that spelling…). A “bry” is essentially a traditional South African cookout. It was a blast! We all loaded up into the back of James’ pickup and rode down windy dirt roads chatting and keeping an eye out for wild game (springbok, blessed buck, and baboon prints/calls). Then we spent the (supremely gorgeous) day down by the Kubussy river (sp?) fishing, relaxing, chatting, eating delicious lamb chops/warthog dogs! (The lamb chops were disgustingly delicious!). I should also mention that I caught two fish. (Alright, I might have just reeled them in, but still! Big deal!). It was seriously the most awesome day.

The night after our big day out was also awesome as we had “Girls Night” in the girls house. I’m sure you girls know exactly what that entails: painting nails, eating candy, watching a girly movie (A Cinderella Story), blasting music, and chit chatting. I even allowed my nails to be painted pink (yeah, pink! I have since unpolished them however). That night was so much fun, two of the girls fell asleep in my lap during the movie which is not an uncommon occurrence, but still awesome.

Other highlights? Several new arrivals! Since my last entry we have had two new arrivals: one volunteer, Liane, and one new kid, a 16 month-old boy! Coincidentally Liane is absolutely head-over-heels in love with him. It’s actually a pretty crazy feeling, one day there are 36 kids and then suddenly there are 37! (That may seem like a “duh” statement, but it’s pretty bizarre when you think about it!) Admittedly, he’s pretty dang adorable. He’s quite a chunker too. We often joke (although we’re actually serious) that he weighs more than one of our nine year-olds. It’s nice to have another baby around too (our youngest just turned one as I mentioned in my last entry and has since learned to crawl, which was quite the struggle for the few weeks prior!).

Some anecdotes from the past two weeks? Hmm. Well my favorite was probably the day that Caitlin and I walked back to the purple house to find the door wide open. We walked in tentatively and to our surprise only found one little four year-old boy running around in the middle of the room. (They’re not allowed in our house normally.) Wide-eyed and hilarious, this boy just stopped and looked at us. Apparently he had followed Liane back without her noticing, the little sneakster! Another favorite was when I got a phone call from Reed early one morning. I snuck out of the purple house and onto the stoop of the blue house next door where I normally talk on the phone at night only this time it was really cold so I brought my big ND blanket with me and covered myself with it. Well it was about the time the kids were all getting ready for school so one of the mama’s walked by across the lawn and saw me. Well naturally she had no idea who I was so she shouted “Who are you?!” at me and I told her it was me. Well later that day the talk of Open Arms was “Why was auntie Kea-ten sleeping outside on the blue house stoop?” Oh those kids.

As if I wasn’t in love with these kids already, they showed me just how adorable they could be when my birthday came around. Periodically throughout the day before my birthday kids were burst through the playroom door (which they’re not supposed to do mind you) to hand me cards they’d made for me. I received a whole big stack of them by my actual birthday and they seriously just melted my heart. Among my favorites were messages like these: “Dear Keaton, Happy birthday Keaton so much and you love me to and I love you to you are so beautiful,” “Dear Keaton, I hope you are so special and I think you nice lady. I am so proud of you I hope you are going to stay next of next year I wish a Happy Birthday and have a nice day today. I love you very mush if you go I would cry because I will miss you,” and “I love you so much Keaton we all love you. I hope you well choose movie is csper the friendly ghost. I hope you ken stay in Open Arms South Africa.” Now tell me these kids aren’t the best? Actually, my birthday was amazing here. It started very early with Rosie surprising Elyssa and I with a delicious chocolate cake (with Mint candy bar crushed over it!) last week (it’s Elyssa’s birthday on the 26th). On my actual birthday we “farmed” (Pat’s manly word for gardening), i.e. we planted the seedlings in our garden – pretty intense, a little, hard, very windy, but also really awesome! We also made chocolate chip cookie bars (yum!), the kids sang to me during crazy hour (as is tradition), and we had a “purple house party” that night where we all just sat in the purple house and chatted and had a great time.

The only downside to my birthday really was that it was Caitlin and Kaitlyn’s last night at Open Arms. In the past 10 days it’s been incredibly sad – Zach went home, Rosie went back to varsity (university), and Caitlin and Kaitlyn left. Not to mention Elyssa leaves on Wednesday. It’s so weird without them here! (If any of you are reading this now, know that I and everyone at Open Arms miss you something awful and we think of you lots!). Pat and I are beginning to mentally prepare ourselves for the arrival and departure of lots of volunteers this year.

In any case, rest assured that all is well here at Open Arms. Every day I find myself falling more and more in love with the kids, more committed to making my experience more meaningful, and certainly more settled into this magical place. The other day while chatting with some of the other volunteers I mentioned my notion that being here was being in the business of loving. I think about that a lot. And I’m learning every day that while I thought I knew how to love people, there are so many more dimensions to loving people than I thought. Yes, there are hugs, there are kisses, there are kind words and there are compliments, but there’s also discipline, patience, therapy, education. There’s timeouts, there are times to pick up the kids up and times to refuse their chorus’ of “pick me up!.” There are times to sit with them while they cry, to hold them, to spoil them, to play bad cop. I don’t know how parents do it. They’re seriously saints and I know I never gave mine enough credit. But I digress, the point is the same point I make in every entry: I love Open Arms. There are lots of challenges here, but every night ends the same: I am so grateful to be here.

Thanks to all of you for supporting me in this journey. You are all so wonderful!! And your comments, e-mails, phone calls, letters, thoughts, and prayers mean the world to me! Never hesitate to stay in touch and please do let me know everything that you’re doing!! I certainly miss and think of everyone back in the states lots (the kids and other volunteers certainly get an earful about my friends and family!). Alright, well now it is way past my bedtime!

All the best,
--Auntie Keaton