This is not bubbles. it is Thanksgiving. But I forgot to post before. You know how they say you can’t outgive God? well, I didn’t get my family for Thanksgiving, but look at all the people I did get! I have such a great international family:).

Today at Living Stones Cajueiro Claro I brought out the bubbles. The perfect sunshine reigned down, and they were captivated. There was something so beautiful and simple about the moment I had to try to catch it on camera, as they tried to catch the bubbles before they blew away.

It was a moment where nothing existed except fun and childhood. Where the stray dog slept silently while the laughter rang out. Where differences and arguments were forgotten, and lunch with a full tummy would soon be served.

You blow problems into delicate circles and watch them float away. I cheer when they pop. And then, once all inhabitions are gone, you run after the bubbles, chase them down, and are filled with glee as the wind fills your hair.

It is a good day.

Instead of wondering what to buy this holiday season, give the gift of kindness and generosity, donating $10 for them.

I am coming home December 15-January 24th.

Around September I realized that if I went home, I would not have the funds to return to Brazil. While I was living off minimal funds (about $370 a month), ministry expenses were going up, and not enough money was coming in for Living Stones to cover it. After figuring some things out with Tele, it worked out that I could stay until next summer, and then work on raising more funds.

I planned for my first palm tree Christmas, and even had my mom buy and send me my Christmas present with my cousin. She also stocked me up with boxes of macaroni and cheese, because you need SOMETHING traditional for Christmas!

And then came one of those nights. Where you can’t sleep–not because of nightmares, but because you are having all these blasted amazing ideas hit you that you can’t turn it off. I kept sighing, turning back on the light, and writing yet more ideas before they got lost in sleepyland.

After sharing the ideas with Tele, and taking into account the financial needs, we decided that I should go home and share about Living Stones NOW. And see my family for Christmas (yay!). Living Stones in Cajueiro Claro is going strong, but in Paudalho it is reopening in February, and we need help to be able to have the funds to be able to sustain the program. Especially when working with those in need, consistency is number one, and we need to be able to be there for them when they need it.

So there you have it. This is where you come in. If you, or anyone you know, would be interested in hearing about Living Stones and stories about the children, please contact me at amobrasil99@hotmail.com. If you know of any churches interested, that would be wonderful! I love sharing anywhere, like Sunday school or Bible study groups, children’s ministries, or just going to get some coffee.

I have a special request as well: I need some people who are willing to open their home and invite some friends over to hear about Living Stones–I can’t get the word out by myself. It starts with a dollar a day. 60 people giving $30 a month will enable us to reopen Paudalho Living Stones in February. Please help me find these 60 people.

So now you know why I haven’t been posting much on xanga. I have dug an antisocial hole for myself, getting everything ready to go. Just a little over two weeks! Thank you for your prayers for this time–I know they are there, and I treasure them.

Paulo’s mother was hanging around Living Stones the other day. Sometimes she stops by to say hello–we have begun something of a friendship. But this time it was one of those ”I want to say something, but I am shy” kinda hanging arounds. So I went on with my day until she was ready to talk. It finally came out: it was her birthday tomorrow. That is what took so long to say. My mind flashed around, thinking “why is she telling me this?” when I finally realized it–we had recently celebrated one of her son’s birthday.

 
Celebrations are big deals in Brazil. It is what many Brazilians live for. I am sure you have heard about Carnaval, the biggest party in the world. Brazilians were born to celebrate. But in poverty, survival is more important than celebration. cake and candles are put on the sidelines for basic nutrition and care. Most of the children at Living Stones do not know when their birthday is.

We’ve been taking the time to celebrate each child, telling them to go home, have someone find their birth certificate, and look it up. This mother was standing before me–this woman that I know only as “Paulo´s mother,” even though I am sure she has a name. She was standing there, shyly asking to be celebrated. To be recognized. She was going to turn 33 years old,and I don’t know if she´s ever had a time of being awknowledged. Her husband is not in the picture. She has at least 3 sons, living in the middle of nowhere, working as a maid in some of the better off homes in the area.

When has there been a time that someone stopped and said “you are worth it?”
Before I could even say anything, she said she was thinking about coming to church on Friday night. That was something new as well. She might have come once in the past, but never stayed for a whole service. “Come! I said enthusiatically, “come and we will celebrate your birthday!” she smiled shyly and left.

Friday night, I brought a cake to church, but she wasn’t there. I asked Paulo, and he said she wasn´t coming. I told him to run home and tell her to come anyway. Right before church, there she was. Dressed in ill-fitting clothes–the best she had–there she was. I took her by the hand and told her happy birthday–and her face lit up. I whispered to Pastor Flavio to make a big deal of it–because I really wanted her to know she was loved. After church (over 25 kids showing up for sunday school class), I went to the sanctuary, but she was gone. I had everyone ready to sing, and ran down the road to call her back. As we walked back into the church, everyone started singing. She stood there, as if almost in shock. Just like in the movies her face showed about five different expressions before filling up with tears. We took a picture with the cake, and then went to the kitchen and passed it out. Lots of crumbs later, she quietly stood there as I hugged her and wished her a happy birthday. And then she walked home.

It is moments like that that remind me why I am here. To bless people that would not have been blessed otherwise. To celebrate God and how he loves us in places that have forgotten, or in people who do not know. To sing happy birthday to someone who would not have been remembered otherwise.

Thanksgiving is almost here. Let us find those who need celebrating. Those who have forgotten or do not know that they are worth it. Because God says they are.  

Isn’t it nice to know that all you need to do is find time to get to the refrigerator or fast food restaurant? So many children do not have that opportunity, feeling hunger every day. Are you willing to join us, praying and empathizing with them for one meal? Over 41% (IFAD, Rural Poverty Portal, Brazil Statistics, 2009) of rural Brazil is in deep poverty, living on less than $2.50 a day.

Join with us on November 19th, 2011,

as we enter into the Thanksgiving spirit by identifying with those who do not have much. By choosing to skip one meal, and giving five dollars (a fast food value meal) to Living Stones kids, you are providing a hot lunch for five children who lack basic nutrition, security, and care.

Donate at http://www.wribrazil.com/5for5/ 

What is Living Stones? find out more at www.wribrazil.com/livingstones and www.buildinglivingstones.com

I wrote about how we were going to have a party (October 25) for Children’s day–and we did. It was amazing, but I forgot to post about it on Xanga! Some of you know that I am running a ministry blog as well (www.buildinglivingstones.blogspot.com), and uploading pictures isn’t very easy with Brazilian internet. All of the information and pictures are posted there. Please check it out–there are many pictures and even more adorable children:). Almost 200 children came, and were told and shown the love of Jesus.

click here to see:

http://buildinglivingstones.blogspot.com/2011/11/childrens-day-celebration-you-are.html

I figure a trip to the Amazon is a pretty good excuse for not posting regularly, but since I’ve been home a while now, it is time to figure out a new excuse. Or post. Or both. It was an amazing two weeks with my cousin, Lillian. It is my pride and joy to show people around Brazil, and after giving out countless invitations, I was so excited to see someone respond—for it is quite a long commute!

Lillian packed two very large suitcases, as well as two full carry-ons full of presents and supplies for the children at Living Stones (and for me—YEAH CHRISTMAS IN OCTOBER!). After our amazing trip to the Amazon, she also prepared a week full of sharing and Bible studies, and taught the kids while I translated. Lillian also brought some presents for the mothers of the children, and we were able to visit their homes.

Each one of the families were open, and some even invited Lillian to come sit in their small, sparse homes. They were quick to get their picture taken, and hugs were shared. The children (who call me “mom,”) were calling Lillian “grandma” before the week was over.

In January, when I started walking to Cajueiro Claro for Living Stones, the children would not even come into the church for the first couple of days. They would peek in the windows, and scamper away any time I tried to catch them. It took a couple of months before they were comfortable with giving me a hug, and a few more weeks after that before they would attempt to return my “good morning” that I said every day.

When Lillian came, the children proudly sang “Open the Eyes of my Heart” in English for her, giving her “good morning” handshakes and hugs. Some of the mothers have been stopping by the program, bringing bananas or potatoes, and taking time to talk with me in the kitchen while I am making lunch. It is a beautiful thing to watch the changes that God is making in this community, as it slowly opens to His light and love.

Lillian woke up and called each day an adventure, ready to tackle anything. And a lot of things happened:

we celebrated Paulo’s birthday

went to Acerolandia (only the best popcicles in the WORLD)

visited some homes in Paudalho and went to the dump

Celebrated Geu’s birthday

Went to the beach

Celebrated Lucas’ birthday

visited Tracunaem and bought some of the traditional pottery

Celebrated Diego’s birthday (there were a lot of birthdays)

Celebrated one year of Cajueiro Claro

(more about that, and more pictures at http://buildinglivingstones.blogspot.com/2011/11/celebrating-wonderful-year.html)

Enjoyed lots of amazing Brazilian food, including this special meal with Tele and his family

went to English classes and church in Paudalho

took a bus and walked all around Recife with friends,

And lots more fun stuff–she was a trooper! We walked all over, taking buses and Kombes and meeting friends and making friends…it was a wonderful, blessed time. Thank you all for your prayers, and thank you Lillian for an amazing time:).

So who is next to come visit me in Brazil?!?

My cousin likes to give over and above what is needed and expected, because it shows something about who God is to a person. His extravagant grace. I think that is amazing. I think that even more when I am on the receiving side of itJ. My cousin is here visiting me in Brazil for two weeks, the second person who has come to see my world here (the first was Anna). I have a list of people who will eventually come and visit. It is growing longer and longer. Hopefully.

It is one of my favorite things to show people around Brazil—there is something special about it, like it widens my view as well. I want to widen until my box shatters completely. But that sounds slightly painful. Lillian asked me where else in Brazil I wanted to see, and then asked if I wanted to be her official translator. YES. So we went to the Amazon. The entrance of the longest river in the world has the city of Belem. The end of the Amazon (ish) has the city of Manaus. We visited Belem.

 (notice: tree growing out of building. homeless man on the doorstep)

It is a beautiful city, much like Recife, but with more imported cars, conveniences, and is actually tourist-friendly. You get off the plane wondering where they hid the Amazon, and when you will get your first glimpse. The only thing every single person told me when I said I was going to the Amazon was to bring bug spray. And if I had my shots. Yes and yes. But there really wasn’t any bugs in the city. It was like a normal city. And when we did see the Amazon (that properly looked like all the pictures of the Amazon that were in my head), there weren’t many bugs there either. The only thing that bit me was fire ants. Which is typical, because ants and I go way back. The only thing that bit Lillian was a bird.

Four days, three nights, but really three days once you count travel time. Our hotel/pousada/home is a newly renovated old house with a pool in the back where they built three extra rooms. The husband is French and the wife is Brazilian and their five year old son can’t decide what language he likes better. They are friendly, and breakfast is included, as well as all of the advice about where are good places to go. You stay at someone’s house in Brazil and you are instant family. I rather like that.

We are about 8 blocks from the docks and the river itself, so get up early to see it. Since it is the entrance of the Amazon, it is huge, with tributaries going out like fingers in every direction as far as we can see. Muddy brown, at different parts you can see the famous mixing of the fresh and salt water. Ver-o-peso market is just waking up when we get there, but the fish market is full—the boats come in at 4 am every morning. That was on the list of things to do, but Rachel grimaced.

(Acai berries are those things hanging from the palm tree-looking things)

Continuing walking down the edge of the river, we pass the acai market, were we walk on cobblestones with squished acai between each one. There is a fort and a cathedral, and we stop to pray. I sat there in awe. It was the most ornate and beautiful cathedral I have been to yet. I asked Lillian if all the big churches in Europe were much like this (because she’s been there). She said yes, just imagine them bigger and more ornate. See? Now I don’t need to go to Europe.

Looking at the paintings on the walls and ceilings, I realized that all my life I have been seeing art and nature from a different perspective. I go to zoos and museums and see a little bit of everything being brought to me. And I am honored to have that opportunity. Most of the world is not. But it is something entirely different to go to a place and see it where is it permanent. They won’t be moving the art painted into the ceiling. Or the walls. Someone created it just for that place, and that is the only place it will ever be. Same thing with animals. Interesting.

Belem is known for their celebration called Nazare de Cirio. One million people come to that cathedral I was sitting at, and carry a statue of Mary from that church to the Basilica a couple of kilometers away. This celebration was the week before we came. Impressive. We went to that Basilica (and apparently, the cast system is church, then cathedral, then Basilica. So this is a big deal), but I didn’t like it half so much. It was a little too much for me, with the ornate statues and carvings and big screen TVs strapped to the big marble pillars.

While there, we lit candles for loved ones and looked for this famous statue that had just been carried there by a million people. The statue apparently, had done many miracles, including save a man from falling over a cliff. I didn’t ask HOW the statue did it, it just said that is what happened. Ok. Lillian and I looked all over and I finally found it: inside a small glass box in the middle of a huge wreath statue that was on top of an even bigger statue making up a gigantic focal point for the church. The actual statue is the size of a doll. “Is that it?” were Lillian’s words.

Belem is a city with big churches and small statues, but they also have walled off certain blocks of the city and conserved them. You walk in and arrive at the Amazon (as it is supposed to look). Magal das gracas was one of these places, where I met the fire ants, and Lillian met the birds—and got bit. I got amazing pictures that make me look like a much better photographer than I really am. There was also the museu Emilio Goeldi, which isn’t much of a museum, but is much of a zoo. Yeah jaguars and sloths! Sloths are actually much cuter than in books, and moved much faster than had been implied in said books.

We took a sunset cruise on the Amazon, seeing the second best sunset ever (the first best was on the plane ride to Belem), hearing traditional Brazilian music, and watching everyone dance. Brazilians don’t listen to music well while sitting down. The old docks have been turned into an upscale mall that held the most wonderful surprise: Cairu. Cairu is the best ice cream in the world. Ok—top three: mango/apple ice cream in Hong Kong, pumpkin ice cream at the covered bridge festival in Indiana, and Cairu ice cream in Belem. They have over 40 flavors, including cheese ice cream. I had acai mixed with tapioca (Brazilian tapioca, which is different).

Friday we focused on seeing everything in the city, and Saturday we were on the river all day. With the band and dancing, of course. You put a group of Brazilians on a boat and everyone is friends in an hour. After about an hour and a half, we were looking at houses on the river with kids waving. Handmade canoes passed us, pushing with carved out paddles. They don’t have school busses here, they have school boats that take them to school.

We docked at an island and embarked on what the guide books said was an “ecological hike.” Actually, it was a kilometer or two of wading and walking on the beach to get around the island to the restaurant. The water was exceptionally high (as we passed the houses, I saw a flooded soccer field), so the water was up to our waist at points. Lillian, who uses special shoes to walk, had to take them off because they couldn’t get wet. Two men helped her—because she hasn’t walked that far without her shoes in ten years. I walked behind, helping translate and carrying the shoes. When we arrived at the restaurant, everyone cheered for us: they, and I, have been very inspired by Lillian’s determination to get through and be able to see everything. As she put it, “Well, we had to get to lunch, didn’t we?”

There, we had fresh acai: a fruit only grown in the Amazon. They had just picked the berries, boiled/prepared them off the seed, pureed them, and then put the puree goop in a bowl. They had options of things to put in it like sugar (it is actually pretty nasty without any sugar), farinha, and puffed tapioca (sort o like puffed rice). Amazingness. They also had cupuacu—another Amazon only fruit—in all sorts of forms: juice, pie, ice cream, pave, crème…

Sunday we rested and enjoyed the artesian feira, selling all kinds of arts and crafts, including stuffed piranha! While in Recife the piranha are protected, in Belem you can eat them or stuff them a vontade. Yesssss—score perfect Christmas presents. One last Cairu ice cream cone overlooking the Amazon river, and we headed back to the airport, and back home for another week of fun times before Lillian goes home to the US of A.

Dreams are always funny when they come true. I’ve wanted to go to the  Amazon for as long as I can remember. But when dreams come true they seem a whole lot more simple and natural than the whole time the idea was only stuck in your head. It is like “of course this is happening—this is how it was supposed to be all along.” There is an empty feeling after you’ve done something you’ve always dreamed of…and I feel the sudden urge to look at a map and find new dreams to dream.

I’m catching the wings of the sunset, the clouds passing below me. The brilliant fire bursts with smoke tales of burning sugar cane fields remind me that I am still in Brazil, and not leaving this time—enjoying. Blue to green to yellow to orange, the red horizon line will soon be gone. They will offer me a beverage, but I’d rather hold on to the beauty. How can I have forgotten myself already? I’ve found the first star of the evening. I’m sure my little prince has returned there.

 (I regret to say I did not take this picture. someone else did.)

The clouds line up like mountain ranges I wish I could climb. The sliver of moon appears as we travel alongside the horizon, not into it. I want this forever, but keep looking down to write rather than enjoy. I’m trying to transcribe experience to paper. They announce dinner and I am surprised how hungry I am. I am flying and starving. Fill my belly with something other than air.

It’s been so long since I’ve written like this. Like me. Where have I been and why did I go? Was I simply looking for beauty? I feel so close to the little prince on planes. With the dark wing siloetted against the sunset a second star appears, but it is no rival to the first. Why don’t I have a place to lay down and watch the stars come out? I think my life would be better if I did.

It may sound horrific, but flying is a beautiful way to die. Flying in general is a romantic activity. No, not for the hectic business people being herded through the gates like cattle, but for all of us who stop and realize what is actually going on instead of going through the motions. We are flying.

The red grows more brilliant as the blue closes in. I see every color of the rainbow, shining under the moon and wishing star. I breathe in haggardly, for the beauty kills me slowly. That is why it cannot last—I couldn’t stand it. The rustle of sandwiches behind me makes my tummy ache. But I dare not look away. Must life be recorded to be validated?

Orange, yellow, and green are being squished to a sliver. Purple is looming. The colors grow bolder, but the stars stay shy. I don’t know if I can watch any longer, distractions are calling me from this most lovely evening. I wish for him once more, my little prince who has returned to his rose, with his pet sheep safely in its box.

I was born to feel things, but once I do they flee so quickly. The sky begins to relax and we pass the small lights of a city below, twinkling like a spider web in morning dew. We are flying, and not even the screaming baby can take away how amazing that is. Don’t lose the wonder.