Land of Rainbows

It has rained all weekend.  God has answered our prayers!  We so needed the rain, as the wells have dried up and the farmers fight the cities for the precious little water in the lakes and dams.  The precipitation is still very low, for this time of the year which should be the rainy season, but we are grateful for a rainy weekend!

 

Land of Rainbows

Chile is a land of rainbows.

where a single drop splits

the sun´s morning rays

into a semaphore of blinking reds and greens

that captured my eye in its prism

and would not let it go.

Chile is a land of rainbows

where the western sun hides behind storm clouds

and eastern snowcapped Andes

squint towards the setting sea.

The last rays chase the rain

scattering the tipsy drops

into a pastel arch

that frames the Sentinel mountain

 in luminescence

and unveils the treasure

at its base.

Chile is a land of rainbows

where a humming bird’s wingtip blur

steals the splintered light

and hides it in a nest

till morning breaks the night.

EH

Dec. 12, 2010

Just a little stone

There was once a little stone that lived on the bottom of a crystal clear and bubbling stream that ran through a green valley sprinkled with trees and shrubs.  Life in the stream was quite boring for the stone.  It felt the passing of the water which rubbed it day after day but it was hardly aware that it was being polished into bright smoothness.  It watched the sun and the moon play with their reflections in the water and the fish whirl and jump in the dancing light.  But the stone always thought that there must be more to the world than the stream bed and wondered if someday it would have the chance to escape from the seemingly eternal routine of bubbles, water, and light.

One day, without any warning, the stone suddenly felt itself being lifted out of the water.  For just an instant it was able to see the valley and some of the blue sky, but in the very next instant it felt itself stuffed into a dark bag full of other stones.  It was a very uncomfortable place for at times it smashed against the other stones as the bag bounced up and down.  Little did it know that in the process, it was being changed and molded in the process. It missed the tranquility of the stream.

            The stone did not know how much time had passed when the bag was opened and light poured in.  It rolled out along with the other stones onto something soft and felt itself turned over and set apart.  For just another moment, the stone looked out on the world to see the beauty of the green and the blue bathed in the sun’s glare, but for just a moment because now it was placed all alone in a rough piece of leather.  Then it panicked for the leather began twirling rapidly in the air and the stone became very dizzy.  Just when it thought it would faint with fright, it was flung into the air.  What joy!  Now it could see everything below!  It could see the stream, the grass, the trees, the mountains in the distance, and many men dressed in shiny armor and helmets and holding up swords.  The trip ended quickly for it had just taken in an eyeful when it crashed into something hard.   The stone then fell to the ground.

A few seconds later it felt something heavy land beside it and the earth shook with the fallen weight.  Then something picked the stone up again and a voice said, “Just the little stone I needed and at the moment I needed it.” And the stone returned to the dark bag where it continued with the other stones until it was again needed.

This is the story of David and the giant Goliath, but from the perspective of the little stone and it is a metaphor of my life, objectives and dreams. Sometimes I have been sitting in the stream waiting for something exciting to happen in my  life but didn’t realize that God was polishing me and preparing me.   Sometimes I have been in the dark bag where I have clashed with others and complained of the disagreeable and painful situations I am in.  But God uses the bumping and the dark times to teach me patience and confidence in Him.  Here also I am being molded and readied.  Sometimes I feel dizzy, in a whirling sling of activities, running crazy with thousands of things to do and hardly a moment to catch my breath.  Sometimes I have the opportunity to fly through the air, and with a clarity of vision, I feel the ecstasy of my goal in sight. And sometimes, I am smashing up against giants, hoping against hope that the aim and thrust have been just right to bring it down.   The Bible says that God didn’t look at David’s  size,  strength, or  outward appearance but looked at his heart.  I God’s hands, and with God’s power and perfect aim, I can be a little stone used to bring down the giants of these times.

           

Sensations of Chile

*Cold hands wrapped around a mug of steaming hot tea.
*Soft prayer shawl comforting burdened shoulders.
*Crisp, light pages of an altar Bible.
*Dry, hot sun beating on bare heads and cracked parched earth.
*Counting colorful, slick, plastic bills to pay the toll.
*Every inch of skin soaking in mineral rich water heated deep in volcanic boilers and bubbling up in thermal pools.
*Neat, clean scalp tingling after a massage and haircut.
*Cold, chrome bar on a bus, cling around the sharp curves, swing with the rythm of stop and start.
*Smooth, ceramic tile freezing feet in the winter, cooling relief in the summer.
*Firm handshake, soft breath, as cheek touches cheek, heart beat to heart beat greeting after church.

Recipe for a “Submarino”

Today I went out to have “once” with Pastora Viviana.  “Once” is the afternoon tea time in Chile, usually between 6 and 7 pm, and can include sandwiches, fresh cheese, pastries, and a hot beverage, usually tea.

But instead of ordering tea on this cold fall day, I ordered a “submarino” or a submarine.  This is a large cup of hot milk, beaten until foamy.  On the side comes a long bar of chocolate (usually one can choose a favorite kind of chocolate).  Then one slowly submerges the chocolate bar into the foamy milk letting it melt on the way down.  Then one chooses how much one wants to stir the beverage.  I like to have swirls of melted chocolate to catch in the spoon  between sips of tinted milk  so I don’t stir it too much.  Others might like it more like hot chocolate milk and will stir until the bar is completely melted.  Either way, ¡es delicioso!

Children and Resilience

Children and Resilience

“My name is Saray.  I am eight years old and in the third grade.  I live with my mother, father and baby brother on the coast of Chile.  My favorite time of the year is Christmas when all of my cousins come to visit.  I feel good when I play with my friends or when I am having fun with my family.  I like to go to church especially Sunday School.  I hope to help other people when I grow up.”

I called Saray’s mother on the phone a couple of weeks before I was to visit to ask if I could interview her spunky red haired daughter.  Saray answered my questions with earnest seriousness.  I have known Saray since she was a baby, and we have often played together, but the thought of an interview with the corresponding photo session made her feel excited and grown up.

I wanted to interview Saray to learn more about children and their resilience. I recently read an article in a leading Chilean newspaper which quoted statistics for the 2010 school year after 1000 earthquake damaged school buildings in Chile had to be abandoned. The article stated that there had been a 60% increase in bullying in elementary and high schools in Chile during this one school year.  However, neither this article nor any other I read associated the alarming increase in school violence with the trauma of the national disaster.  I invited Saray to think back on this year and tell me what had been helpful and what had made her more resilient.

 “I was awake when the earthquake started because I had gone to the bathroom.  My mom and dad jumped out of bed and took me to the kitchen because it was safer there.  I was very afraid.  Our house moved but it didn’t fall down.  We went to my grandparents’  house as soon as it stopped shaking because they live up the hill from the beach.  Our house had to be fixed after the earthquake so I stayed with my grandparents a long time.  After the earthquake I had nightmares and…(Saray pauses with a hint of embarrassment.)…I started wetting my bed, so my aunt took me to talk to a psychologist. She told me to imagine a warm, red blanket protecting me whenever I am afraid.  I imagined that it was God covering me with that blanket.  God gave me an imaginary red blanket to help me not be afraid.”

Saray’s grandfather is the pastor of a local congregation of the Pentecostal Church of Chile in the heart of the disaster zone.  Within a couple of days, supplies came pouring in to the church to help the victims of the tsunami and the earthquake.  Clothing, food, cleaning utensils, and household wares had to be sorted and packaged according to the necessities of the affected families.  Saray gave herself the responsibility of gleaning baby clothing from the boxes and checking the lists to send what would be needed in each family  to keep the littlest girls and boys warm, clean, and healthy.  She worked for several weeks while waiting for school to start.  Like her house, her school was not safe and also had to have major repairs.  Her school eventually reconvened in the building of another local church.  “I wanted to go back to school, but since I couldn’t, it helped me feel better to know that I was helping other people.”

“My best friend at school is Antonia.  She has diabetes, but we always take care of each other.  This year at school, something sad and bad happened to me.  Another girl made me be friends with her and told me I had to stop being friends with Antonia.  She told me she would hit me and tell lies about me if tried to be friends with anyone but her.  When the teacher made us share the same desk, I couldn’t concentrate because I was afraid of her.  I started getting bad grades.  One day, my mother found a nasty note I had written about Antonia.  She asked me about it, and I started crying.  I told her that this other girl had made me write it.  I wanted to know why this girl was so mean to me and to Antonia.  My mother explained that this girl’s parents were getting a divorce and that they had had many problems this year.  My mother talked to the teacher and together they promised to help me, Antonia and the other girl.”

Saray was born with an extremely rare skin tumor; she is the only person in Chile with this disease. There are only five other cases in the world and no known cure. This year, she had to stay in bed for two weeks because of an infection related to the tumor.   Saray spent the time in bed making “resilience bracelets” for other children.   “I guess having the tumor has made me more aware of other people who are hurting.” Because she has a loving family, caring teachers, good friends, opportunities to help others and a growing faith, Saray continues to develop resilience to life’s challenges.   

At the end of the interview, I asked Saray, if she had the opportunity to encourage children in the United States, what she would like to say to them.    She answered, “Tell the children who were in the tornados and floods that God is always with them and won’t ever leave them.  Tell the children who have cancer that when they pray, they will know that God is always beside them.”

MAY 2012 UPDATE:  I just arrived home after a weekend in Tomé visiting Saray and her aunt.  Saray is nine years old now, and in this year she has grown taller and a bit more serious.  It has been a difficult year.  With considerable financial effort, Saray’s family was able to take her to the capital city of Santiago to see a team of specialists who were to operate on the tumor on her leg.  After a week of exams and meetings with the doctors, they decided not to operate.  Saray was heartbroken.  She had overcome her fear of the operation in hope that she would no longer have to deal with the pain and discomfort on her leg.  The doctors have decided to try a new experimental treatment which is not covered by either the public or private insurance system.  Saray’s mother tells me that the doctors are trying to get coverage from the government system, but the process may take many months.  In the mean time, Saray must work to reduce the inflammation on her leg both with medication and by not exerting herself in anyway.  She has had to give up dancing and physical education classes.  Saray´s cheerfulness and hope still bubble up and this vivacious redhead still sparkles with joy wherever she goes.  She is, however, more introspective these days and in the quiet moments of reflection, she wonders why God has not yet healed her.

Saray wanted me to be sure to say ¡GRACIAS!  thank-you to all of you who wrote notes and sent her little gifts during this difficult year.  She was amazed and encouraged by the number of people who were praying for her.  A friend is able to translate the cards and notes that she receives.  If anyone would like to write to Saray and encourage her, her address is:

Saray Faundez Benitez

C/O Pastor Juan Benitez

Casilla 62

Tomé, Octava Región

CHILE

South America

Saray, her family and the city of Tomé

Home

Home.

Is it a brick or wooden structure?

Is it a cold rock castle stable and secure,

                or a flimsy cardboard shack exposed to the elements?

Is it a place where food is dished out

                or where sleepy heads find soft pillows to cuddle?

Is it a concrete slab with a welcome mat thrown across the threshold

                or an open doorway with shy smiles peeking from the inner dimness?

Is it the "Home, sweet home" cross-stitched inside a frame

                or a curled calendar hanging groggily from a rusty nail?

Home.

Have I looked for you in the proper places?

Do you purposely elude me as I long to make you my hideout?

Where have others found you? What road have they taken,

what turn did they make, what gate did they open?

Maybe, just maybe, you’re not a scene opening before my eyes.

                Perhaps, you can’t be painted or repaired by my hands.

There’s a chance that you’ve been with me all along,

                that you’ve been lost in my attitudes,

                and that wherever my Lord has set a place with fellowship,

                His presence, and love, there I have my

Home.

                                                                                              Elena Huegel

                                                                                              Curicó, Chile, Jan. 1996

I revisit this poem as I finish painting and fixing up my home!

Photos of the facelift for the Gathering Point

Flavors of Chile

-Humitas: Corn mush cooked in husks with chopped onions and served swamped in fresh, sun-sweetened  tomatoes.

-Jugo de frambuesa: Ice cold raspberry juice, tart on the tongue and refreshing down the parched throat.

-Mote con huesillo: Lye softened wheat grains flavoring dehydrated peaches soaked in sweetened juice and served ice cold on a hot summer day.

-Corazoncito de alcachofa: An artichoke heart, dipped in lemon and oil,  so tender it practically melts in the mouth.

-Guinda corazón de paloma: Dove- heart cherries, sweet-sour blood red juice tinting hands in the picking and lips in the savoring.

-Empanada de horno: Surprise olive, a burst of vinegar, in an oven baked meat and egg pie.

-Sopaipillas pasadas:  Fried squash pancake swimming in hot molasses-like syrup, energizing sweetness on a cold, rainy, winter day.

-Once:  Fork squashed avocado scooped onto warm bread with a slice of moist mild white cheese and a cup of hot tea sweetened with several spoonfuls of sugar.

-Pan amasado con manjar: Hot bread, baked in a clay oven, and dripping with melting butter and sweet caramelized milk.

-Asado con ensalada Chilena: Sliced raw tomatoes and onions accompany a chunk of charcoal broiled beef.

-Guatitas:  Pungent flavor of tripe, the lining of a cow´s stomach, floating in a soupy broth.

-Mate caliente con azucar: Hot water percolating through a gourd packed with tea leaves with a spoon full of sugar sprinkled on the top along with slivers of lemon rinds and drunk through a silver straw with a filter on the tip; creating an intimate space for conversation and friendship.

   

Harvest Feast Worship Service at the Curicó Church