Amigos de Jesus Remembers

        It is easy to be forgotten in Honduras.  Children come to Amigos de Jesus because they have been neglected, abandoned, rejected and left to survive on their own.  Our Oscarito was left alone to fend for himself when he could barely hold himself up or feed himself.  Others of our children have been abused in unimaginable ways while adults turn a blind eye to torture, incest, rape, starvation, and slavery.  Many of our children are born to children who never had a childhood.  Still more have wandered the streets, struggled to escape abuse, begged for food, or had their families torn apart by violence.  To be alive after what has happened to them is an accomplishment.  The fact that our children live life with a smile on their faces is an inspiration.  Someone once told Fr. O’Donnell that even more than their smiles is the brightness of their eyes – both their smiles and their eyes make them impossible to forget. 

       Yet our children do even more than smile.  They give.  They serve.  They share love, they offer prayers, and they actively seek to make the world a more humane and beautiful place.  Our children who our world almost forgot will never forget the people of our world.  

Six months ago the Lord decided that Oscarito had left enough of an impact to be remembered by and that 48 days of us pouring love into him was long enough; so our sweet angel was called to heaven where he watches over us.  If Oscarito had not found a home and a family at Amigos de Jesus, he would have died alone and been buried in an unmarked and forgotten grave.  Instead, we are building him a cemetery up on the hill behind the big white cross at Amigos de Jesus.  In the meantime his tiny body is resting at an overgrown, trash-ridden cemetery in the nearby community of Macuelizo.

        Oscarito’s grave is one of several bright spots in the otherwise bleak cemetery.  His dignified grave bears the marks of love of a large family, and the special touches of the 19-year-old who cared for him.  David comes home to Amigos twice a month from the city where he is in University.  He keeps Oscarito’s plot immaculately maintained, free from litter and brush and surrounded by plants and flowers.

       Our children know that Oscarito could have ended up in a forgotten, neglected grave.  They know that if it were not for Amigos de Jesus, they would have been neglected and forgotten too.  So they decided to do something to show that not only is Oscarito alive in the hearts of our family, but that they also have room in their giant hearts to remember others. 

Six months from the day we buried Oscarito the Amigos de Jesus family honored our angel by remembering people who have been forgotten.  Our oldest young men spent 5 hours hacking away at overgrown tropical brush, picking up garbage, cleaning off graves, and beautifying parts of the cemetery.

  Our girls spent a week collecting plastic bottles to turn into flowers and wreaths that they  painstakingly painted and arranged to put on graves.  The same garbage that had littered the cemetery was transformed into a beautiful symbol of love from our children. 

       We spent the entire afternoon of the six-month anniversary of Oscarito’s burial at the cemetery.  We admired the work of the older boys, we decorated graves with lovingly placed flowers, we walked together, told stories of people we have lost, and stayed close to each other.

At the end of our time at the cemetery David led prayer circle around Oscarito’s grave and we prayed to Oscarito and for the people buried in the cemetery, for the people our children have lost, and for the Amigos de Jesus family around the world.  Our children remembered.  Our children remember.

     There are so many people who make up our Amigos de Jesus family.  Our children do not forget you.  To all of you everywhere on behalf of Oscarito and our children, THANK YOU for their bright eyes, THANK    YOU for their smiles, THANK YOU for remembering. 

- Amy Escoto - Operations Director

If you would like to see more pictures from the day, please check them out on our Facebook page 
 

 

International Volunteer Day

Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but give yourself to humble tasks; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.   

 Romans 12:13-18

   
The children of Amigos de Jesus are blessed by the presence of volunteers who serve as teachers, mentors, surrogate parents, leaders, friends and role models.  We currently have 17 young men and women who serve Amigos de Jesus on a full-time basis as volunteers through several different programs.

Six volunteers make up the Amigos de Jesus volunteer community:  Ali, Emilia, Emma, Joanna, Laura, Pat; Meg is the volunteer coordinator; Jenn and Dan are serving as a couple; Ben, Elena, Jose and Karenna teach at our school through our partner organization BECA; Christopher, Geidy, Graciela and Viviana teach at our school through a volunteer program for Honduran teachers.  All 17 of these amazing human beings give of their time and energy to serve our children and allow us to offer countless opportunities to your boys and girls that we would not be able to offer without people who dedicate themselves to Amigos de Jesus while expecting nothing in return. 

December 5 is International Volunteer Day and the entire Amigos family gave a few hours to celebrate our volunteers who have given countless hours to our family.  We started with a prayer service where our children had the chance to understand how Jesus calls us to serve and how the volunteers fulfill the gospel through their work with our children.  Some of the things are children mentioned about the volunteers:

“They share works of love for us children who need it.”

“They are always helping us with any problems any of us have.”

“It is clear that they have Christ in their hearts and they live this by helping those who need it.”

“We can follow their example and the example of Jesus by praying and sharing what we have received- not just material things, but also the love and peace of God we’ve been given.”

“They live their values and share them with others and teach us to be good people in the future.”

“They are part of our family and treat us like they are our mothers and fathers.”

“They inspire us to look for ways to serve others in our community.”

“Everything they do is done with enthusiasm and a smile, even when it is difficult.”

After the reflection with the children, the volunteers were invited to sit at a special table and were served a dinner prepared in their honor- Pizza!- which was served to them by the children and other members of our family.  The dining room was decorated with their names and photos and reflections on why they were important. They were each given cards that the children and teenagers made for them along with a t-shirt. And as with many days of celebration, the night ended with a bit of dancing and our traditional prayer circle.

  

  

!MUCHAS GRACIAS! to all of the amazing volunteers who serve the children of Amigos de Jesus.

Maize Fields

The corn was thick in the air as we walked up to Amigos' maize field. Like a display of fireworks, the ears hit their peak and gradually descended, each at a different moment.

It was harvesting day for Amigos' maize (corn) and all the jovenes, or teenaged, boys at the hogar had been enlisted to help. The 20 of them worked their way in a pack up and down the field, a row at a time. The dried out ears had to be pulled off and then catapulted to the nearest of several large piles that had been cleared out in the midst of the stalks. In nearly two acres of corn there were five or six piles, and that's why the corn flew through the sky at such a great height. It's also why, despite the heat, several of the boys seemed to be enjoying themselves.

 

Maize is what we gringos know as yellow corn, several months later. At the point where sweet corn would be ready to harvest, the stalks are doubled over and allowed to dry out for several more weeks. Once harvested, the hard, dry maize kernels are ready to be ground into the flour that constitutes the tortillas eaten at every meal - two tortillas a person, breakfast, lunch and dinner. The maize we harvested that day, in grains, weighed 4,500 pounds, enough for six months worth of tortillas here at the hogar.

 

Beginning at 8 a.m., the boys and other employees of Amigos' agricultural program, Agro as it's referred to here, were at work pulling the brown, crinkly maize cobs off of doubled-over, waist-high stalks. The sun was fiercely strong by 9 a.m. and the work is best done in long pants and sleeves, since the dried stalks are prickly and scratchy, sometimes dangerously sharp, and lots of creatures (read snakes) like to live in the field. 

It's unsurprising that among the-high schoolers, there were those who didn't relish the hard work. What's more surprising is that some of them did. When I asked one of them why, he said throwing the ears the distance to the piles was fun, and that he liked seeing how far he could throw. Then he gave a reason I didn't expect. He said he also liked walking from plant to plant, pulling the corn off the stalks. To me, a first-time maize harvester, this seemed like the least fun part of the job. My legs and arms were scratched and itchy and I was constantly worried about what insect I would see next crawling out of a corn ear. Sweat was pouring down my face and I had a bloody gash on one hand from an especially sharp stalk. Harvesting maize is brutally hard work and that's the daily reality for many Honduran farmers, one that really struck me in the field. But this kid also saw the beauty in the process. He was able, even in a long-sleeved shirt drenched in sweat, to appreciate the kind of satisfaction harvesting your own food can bring.

Amigos uses about eight acres of farmland. Currently the hogar produces all its own milk, chicken, maize, and beans. Beans will be planted next in the same field as the maize. There are two harvests a year for both crops and each plant replenishes the soil for the next in a beautiful, ageless cycle. The boys at the hogar who work in the agro program are learning about a crop and a cycle that has been a staple in the lives of Hondurans for generations. I learned a saying in my first week here that is catchy in Spanish: Sin maíz, no hay país, which basically translates to, the country falls apart without maize.

We walked back from the field dehydrated and exhausted, at least I was, but also on a strange sort of high, the kind that comes from doing a hard job through to the end. The boys were making whooping noises for no reason, giddily laughing. The tortillas at lunch that day didn't taste quite the same.

 

A Brigade Vists Amigos de Jesus

This past August, Amigos de Jesus was visited - for the first time in its existence - by a medical brigade that was able to give every child and staff member a medical exam.

Amigos de Jesus has not hosted a brigade to the Hogar before and everyone was excited to welcome in the group of medics from Summit in Honduras. The personnel from the brigade were likewise excited for this opportunity. Altogether they brought two medical doctors, two medical students, an EMT and a translator.

“We like to bring small groups of medical staff so we can get to know those we serve and they can get to know us,” said Maggie Ducayet, founder of Summit in Honduras and organizer of the brigade.

Ducayet founded Summit in Honduras nine years ago after she went on a different mission trip nearby. In discussing more about her involvement within Honduras and why she continues to do this type of work, Ducayet revealed just how important their trips are to the local communities.

“An entire village became dependent on the once a year trip we did and I saw a need for more,” said Ducayet. “I scout out different people in the U.S. who are willing and able to help with different brigades.”  

Ducayet met Emily Ford, United States director of Amigos de Jesus, at an event in the United States. Ducayet who travels to Honduras around four times a year with different brigades wanted to visit the Hogar as soon as she found out about it and says that she was pleased to have the opportunity to meet the children.

“This has been amazing,” Dycayet said. “I knew we had to come here after I had heard about Amigos de Jesus.”

In the course of the day, all 91 children at the Hogar were seen by a doctor. Staff members were also encouraged to get exams and many seized the opportunity. A number of the children were nervous, having so limited experience with doctors, but each waited patiently for their chance to be seen and relaxed when they realized there would be no shots.

 

When asked how the exam went, one child responded, “facil!” (easy!)

“It’s really amazing what they’re doing,” said Wilson Escoto director of Amigos de Jesus. “They could come to us and we didn’t have to worry about taking all of our kids to a medical office, which was great.”

As an added bonus, the group of medical staff returned the following morning to teach the Amigos de Jesus staff members’ basic first aid care. In addition to this they gave the Hogar four kits of first aid supplies to have on hand in case of injury.

 

Check out some of the photos from the day!

 

 

 

A Prayer for Peace

To walk in to the Amigos de Jesús chapel yesterday between 11:00am and noon, it would have been difficult to believe it was full of some 25 teenaged boys and two girls, anywhere from 13 to 22 years old. You would have found the capilla in reverent silence, save for the church music serving as a background to the kids' meditations. The Amigos de Jesús family was answering Pope Francis' request for prayers for peace.

The capilla at Amigos is the second floor of the office building and it is open air. All four sides have a concrete rail and through it you can see the mountains in the distance and overlook the rest of the Amigos campus. The service began with Amy, our co-director, explaining what was happening in Syria; that it is locked in a civil war, that there is destruction everywhere, that the government used chemical weapons against its own people, that those who suffer the most are the children. She showed a short news clip with some images of the fighting in the streets. All the kids were rapt with attention.

Then two of the boys took turns reading the text of the Pope's message delivered last Sunday calling for peace (you can find the text in English here http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/francesco/angelus/2013/documents/papa-francesco_angelus_20130901_en.html). It was a profound moment. As I listened to the words in Spanish, sitting in this open-air chapel overlooking the beauty of the Honduran countryside, I felt the force of the Church's universality in a way I never had before. Those words redounded around the world in every type of setting, in every language.

Before the time for prayer, Amy called attention to the Pope's call for peace not only in Syria, but also around the world. Honduras, though not at war, is also not at peace, she said. We must pray for the people of Syria, and for peace in our own nation, and in our own hearts.

Everyone was invited to pray for as long as they thought fit. Then every head bowed and silence descended on the chapel while the hymns played in the background. No one stayed for less than half an hour, and when the hour was up there were still several boys at prayer. Each teenager there has suffered so much and for that hour, their prayers were with those suffering so much now.

A few hours after the service, I was hanging out with two of the boys aged about 13 and 15. We were laughing and talking, but soon it became obvious that the morning's prayer service was still on their minds. They kept asking about Syria and the situation there, why the people were fighting the government, why so many people were dying, and why there was such destruction. I found I couldn't answer most of their questions. Then one of them said that during the prayer service he was thinking, what if this hogar wasn't in Honduras, but in Syria. He said he imagined the destruction of his home, the soldiers and tanks bursting through the front gate. And he was grateful that he lived in Honduras.

Sometimes there are moments here when the spirituality, the thoughtfulness, the goodness of the kids, and by proxy the presence of God, is overwhelming. Once in a while it happens during nightly prayer circle, sometimes it's during a conversation or witnessing a moment of kindness, and sometimes it's during such spontaneous moments as a prayer hour with the home's teenaged boys - who have known war - praying for peace.

 

The Prodigal

 

Tonight, during the hour and a half each night between dinner and prayer circle where everyone hangs out outside, I played for a long time with a little boy who is new to the hogar. He is eight years old and has a smile that spreads in a long line across his face, lighting up big brown eyes, a high-pitched, excitable voice and a babyish laugh. He called me over to a corner of the porch to sit on the ground so I could watch him proudly assemble a tiny plastic top. He spun it as fast as he could a few times - "Mira! Mira!" - and then handed it to me to try. He was completely content in that moment, spinning his tiny top or watching me spin it, shrieking when it got too close to the edge of the porch, giggling every time it fell over. I could hardly believe that it was only a few days ago that I had sat with the same boy while he sobbed miserably into a plate of pancakes. 

I was one of the group who went to pick him up from one of the state-run children's homes four days ago. We picked up three new children from the home that day and he had been then one I had gotten to know the least on our trip. In contrast to the other two boys, he had been calm and unimpressed during the ride back to Amigos, half-smiling at times, but mostly quietly looking out the window. I don't remember once seeing the wide smile that has come to define his face for me now.

We arrived to the hogar as everyone does here: to the applause of the entire home gathered at the front gate. All three timidly got out of the car and walked through the crowd where they were introduced to the padrinos and madrinas, the caretakers of the boys and girls who live on-site and are with the children full-time.

I didn't see the littlest boy much that evening or the next day. At dinner in the comedor I made a point to sit with him, but he gave me a cold shoulder. At breakfast and lunch the next day I looked around to find him sitting sullenly, not speaking to the other boys around him. 

Late that afternoon, we, the new volunteers were in the midst of an orientation session when we learned that the boy had run away. It was 4:30 and we learned he had been gone about half an hour. We came out of the session to see search parties assembling. Two of the trucks full of people went out to drive in separate directions and a large group of boys and a few padrinos went out on foot. After night had fallen, the search parties began to return one by one. Staff members assembled a description of the child with photos and dropped them off at local police stations. We had to go to sleep that night not knowing where he was sleeping.

The next day, the whole home was to spend the day at a nearby water-park. Several trips with truck-fulls of kids had to be taken to get everyone there starting at 8 in the morning. I wasn't with the group that found him, but I heard later that it was wild. The whole truck full of children seemed to spot him at the same time and began screaming and pointing. He had been walking towards them down the road; when he spotted them, he darted away and one of the older boys ran after him. When they put him in the car, he was already sobbing.

Amy, our co-director, called me over to the comedor to sit with him while he ate some breakfast. I listened while she told him that he had woried us so much because he is very important to us, because we love him. Waves of sadness poured over the little guy; he didn't know where to put his face. Every time the crying slowed for a bit, a fresh wave seemed to overtake him. He had his little bundle of clothes the hogar had given him in a plastic bag (when he arrived he had nothing with him but the clothes he wore), and he took them all out, refolding them, and putting them away again. He told us he had spent the night in a nearby town, he said, and had been trying to get back to the city to his younger brother. (The younger brother is set to move to Amigos in a few days).

Amy told him that the group was going to a water-park that day and that it would be really fun. Gradually he warmed to the idea. He agreed to leave his bundle at the home and go to the water-park with the last group. While we waited for the truck to arrive, I showed him around the home. We walked up the hill to the big white cross that overlooks the whole campus, and he agreed with me that the view of the mountains was beautiful. We looked at the wide green soccer field with its rows of half-tire "stands." We slid together down Amigos' big tube slide. I realized he hadn't let himself really look around at the home, hadn't let himself begin to like it.

That day at the water-park, I watched a version of this child emerge that I had never seen before as he shrieked and played and acted like the little kid he is, instead of like a mini-adult alone in the world. Since he's been at the hogar I've loved watching him run and play with the other boys and eat good meals with that big smile on his face. That's how his face is supposed to look.

As I begin to understand a little more how important Amigos is and what it does for these kids, this little guy will always come to the forefront of my mind. He always runs up to me now at meals or out on the field after dinner, and I look for him, too. The relationships built with the kids here are what everyone says make it so special. I've got a few I'm working on, but I know this one will always be very special to me. Because he was lost, and I watched him be found.

 

 

 Joanna Gardner
Volunteer 2013-2014

 

 

 

 

Fútbol at the Hogar

Some days evenings arrive unexpectedly, and I walk out of the comedor after dinner and resignedly tie on my cleats after half-hearted appeals from the boys for futbol.  At times we can almost be indifferent to soccer’s inevitability. 

Other times the beautiful game brings an irresistible energy, and entire days seem to revolve around futbol.  Anticipation lasts from breakfast until the hour arrive.  Tengo rigio are the watchwords, echoed throughout the hogar, difficult to translate precisely but roughly expressing a physical yearning for soccer.  Legs feel agitated.  Feet grow restless.  The goals will fly thick and the tackles will be bruising.  On these days all eyes are waiting for sunset.  At Amigos, (our) real futbol is played in the evenings.

 

 

 In small groups we wander onto the soccer field, pale lights illuminating the grass from goal to goal.  Those moments before we play—spent stretching or shooting on goal, or trash-talking—are full of promise.  Each one of us has in our mind a brilliant golazo, a stellar performance recognized by the group.  A lot of respect is earned (and lost) on the soccer field. 
 

We straggle into different teams and wait restlessly.  We’re not yet in full futbol-mode.  Somebody grabs the ball and punts it into the air.  Before it even hits the ground the transition has taken place.  We’re living in the moment, a different state of consciousness where our lives away from that field might as well be a million miles away.  Maybe I exaggerate.  But what is true is that your mind doesn’t work the same way when the ball is at your feet.  Instinct and adrenaline replace words and thought.  The day and all its challenges and troubles slip away, a blessed relief from the stresses of everyday life, for both the boys and me.  Even though soccer can be a time when we channel aggression, we find some measure of peace and belonging on the field.  That’s part of why futbol is so important to the boys here.

 

Love for the game goes deep.  Interest in soccer varies amongst the kids; some rarely or never play and others don’t let a day pass without a session.  But everyone here recognizes soccer as the primary sport, not just of our home but for all of Honduras.  Nationalism and soccer are intricately tied in this country, and that affects the children living at Amigos.  A world-cup qualifier brings excitement, apprehension.  The sports sections of newspapers are devoured.  The quality of certain players is vigorously debated.  And when game-time arrives, the children of Amigos huddle around radios or televisions and join the millions of other Hondurans cheering and groaning throughout those 90 minutes.  A goal scored for Honduras unleashes chaotic bliss.  We jump out of chairs, screaming, arms extended to the ceiling.  The younger children, often unaware of what’s going on, join in the shouting and hugging, scrambling to involve themselves in the celebration.  Moments of disorderly, wonderful happiness. 

 

Soccer is part of Amigos de Jesus.  There’s a rhythm and fluidity to life here that futbol expresses so well.  The soccer field is a canvas on which the kids channel their creativity and imagination.  And it’s a joy to share their passion. 

 

Joseph Starzl

Amigos de Jesus Volunteer 2012

BECA Administrator 2013