Volunteer work is my life--I grew up doing it, hearing about it, meeting people who were volunteers and missionaries; I've been surrounded by people from this line of work ever since the beginning of time.
In Europe I've worked with a few different organizations, C4C in Czech Repubblic, Per un Mondo Migliore in Croatia, CCC in Romania, MMSZ and Szeretet a Válasz here in Hungary, just to name a few.
I recently met the founder of one of the biggest charity foundations in Romania. I had often heard of him and his wife thru' friends and other volunteers, but I hadn't met him personally. The foundation they run is called "Little People" and they have been working in Romania for the past 14 years. They are of course, very successful, and have lots of projects and volunteers, sponsors, big productions, and Katie Rizvi was awarded last year as "Woman of the Year 2009" in Romania. I hope you get to visit their webpage and discover the wonderful work they do.
When I met Shajjad Risvi, I told him of the "humble" work I do in Budapest: my visits to the hospitals, teaching English once a week in the orphanage and helping the homeless alongside the MMSZ. Compared to Shajjad and Katie's asociation, my projects are "low-key" and hardly spectacular. But Shajjad was interested in the projects I am working on and he said
"Wow, that's amazing! You are a superstar!"
and that day I did feel like a superstar! I came home and told Eden about meeting the founder of the "Little People" asociation and how he made me feel wonderful about the work we do.
This is the motto of "Little People:
“Little people” doing “little things” that make a big difference!
How true, it is the little people, who by doing little things turn out to be the superstars! Shajjad and Katie are among the brightest!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
May love be your keeper
I spent a Christmas and the whole winter in Czech Reppublic, a few years ago. Prague was the last place in the world I would have imagined I would end up in. But because life has a way of surprising us, I took a train from Krakow (Poland) to Prague one November morning, and I made my way to an overly-crowded house by the edge of the forest, and stayed there for six months.
The poor house was full to the brim. There were so many of us—and mostly children. This was at the time the center, for the biggest children’s foundation in Czech Reppublic. The folks that lived there were volunteers—and they also had children of their own. I took care of two little boys in the mornings and in the afternoons I taught three teen girls dancing, cooking, and we even tried our hands at sowing (which turn out to be a total disaster) :)
It was in that house that I met Leelu—she was 13 at the time. She was a cute, petite girl, with dark hair and amazing blue eyes. She loved reading, and dancing, and was the kind of girl that would wake up early and go down to the kitchen and wash all the dishes before breakfast, and would be the last one sweeping the floor after a late dinner. It was wonderful to work with her, because you could count on her to be there, even in the midst of chaos and emergencies.
In the summer of 2004, when I was living in Hungary, we had a teenage boy staying with us for a couple of weeks. I was his legal guardian, and he was the first of what I call ’my kids’. Leelu is of course, one of ’my girls’—ever since I first met her.
Leelu went with her family to the Philippine Islands and then back to Czech. And twice she came to visit us in Hungary. Last time she came to stay with us for a few weeks, we discoreved that she was suffering from an eating disorder. This wasn’t a strange girl, off the streets, or in an institution for orphan children—this was Leelu, one of us, one of ’my girls’.
The truth is that I didn’t know how to relate to her, I didn’t know how to help her, and I felt overwhelmed with hopelessness.
Leelu went back home, and she wrote me a few times, but how could I know that all the while she was ’starving’ herself to the point that she had to be admitted in a hospital just a few days after Christmas.
When I first heard of it, thru a friend of mine, I cried and cried. I didn’t know what to do—I was miles away from her, and she was being kept in a ward with no contact with the outside world until she would gain some weight.
It was a hard time for me to know that my Leelu was suffering, and was probably feeling all alone. I wrote my friend Paula with the question ’what should we do?’
’Let’s pray for her!’ was her wise answer
So I did—I focused all my love and positive energy towards Leelu and prayed that she will be strong enough to fight for life—to choose to live!
Last weekend I got a letter from her telling me that she is trying, that it’s very difficult but that she feels our prayers for her.
When Leelu was 13, and we roomed together, we would say ’May love be your keeper’ to each other when saying goodnight.
Those words have never meant so much to me as they do today. If there’s anything that will keep our Leelu safe, is love. Our love, and the Lord’s love overall.
And love can cross oceans and mountains over to where our friends are struggling and help them conquer all. None of us is alone in this world, we can count that the love of our family and friends is there to sustain us when we are not brave and strong enough to face life. Let’s remember to pray for each other, shall we? We could be saving someone’s life!
For Leelu, who is finding herself again: ’May love be your keeper.’
The poor house was full to the brim. There were so many of us—and mostly children. This was at the time the center, for the biggest children’s foundation in Czech Reppublic. The folks that lived there were volunteers—and they also had children of their own. I took care of two little boys in the mornings and in the afternoons I taught three teen girls dancing, cooking, and we even tried our hands at sowing (which turn out to be a total disaster) :)
It was in that house that I met Leelu—she was 13 at the time. She was a cute, petite girl, with dark hair and amazing blue eyes. She loved reading, and dancing, and was the kind of girl that would wake up early and go down to the kitchen and wash all the dishes before breakfast, and would be the last one sweeping the floor after a late dinner. It was wonderful to work with her, because you could count on her to be there, even in the midst of chaos and emergencies.
In the summer of 2004, when I was living in Hungary, we had a teenage boy staying with us for a couple of weeks. I was his legal guardian, and he was the first of what I call ’my kids’. Leelu is of course, one of ’my girls’—ever since I first met her.
Leelu went with her family to the Philippine Islands and then back to Czech. And twice she came to visit us in Hungary. Last time she came to stay with us for a few weeks, we discoreved that she was suffering from an eating disorder. This wasn’t a strange girl, off the streets, or in an institution for orphan children—this was Leelu, one of us, one of ’my girls’.
The truth is that I didn’t know how to relate to her, I didn’t know how to help her, and I felt overwhelmed with hopelessness.
Leelu went back home, and she wrote me a few times, but how could I know that all the while she was ’starving’ herself to the point that she had to be admitted in a hospital just a few days after Christmas.
When I first heard of it, thru a friend of mine, I cried and cried. I didn’t know what to do—I was miles away from her, and she was being kept in a ward with no contact with the outside world until she would gain some weight.
It was a hard time for me to know that my Leelu was suffering, and was probably feeling all alone. I wrote my friend Paula with the question ’what should we do?’
’Let’s pray for her!’ was her wise answer
So I did—I focused all my love and positive energy towards Leelu and prayed that she will be strong enough to fight for life—to choose to live!
Last weekend I got a letter from her telling me that she is trying, that it’s very difficult but that she feels our prayers for her.
When Leelu was 13, and we roomed together, we would say ’May love be your keeper’ to each other when saying goodnight.
Those words have never meant so much to me as they do today. If there’s anything that will keep our Leelu safe, is love. Our love, and the Lord’s love overall.
And love can cross oceans and mountains over to where our friends are struggling and help them conquer all. None of us is alone in this world, we can count that the love of our family and friends is there to sustain us when we are not brave and strong enough to face life. Let’s remember to pray for each other, shall we? We could be saving someone’s life!
For Leelu, who is finding herself again: ’May love be your keeper.’
Monday, February 8, 2010
Letter to Jonny
Dear Jonny,
It's been a long time since I haven't heard from you--years in fact. A few days ago I got an email from you with a few photos and a little account of the work you are doing in Mexico with your family. You look radiant but then again, you've always been amazing!
I will never forget how we met, one May afternoon in Italy--it was shortly after my birthday. I was working at the old-folk's home in the neighboring town. I worked shifts and because I was young and usually willing, I worked more than the other nurse assistants, which meant that I didn't get many free days.
A mutual friend called my dad, asking him if he wouldn't mind helping organize a children's show, and because my dad had experience in that line of work he agreed. Three of my younger brothers and sisters would go with him, and my dad asked me if I wanted to come as well. I told him that I was working that particular Sunday and wouldn't be able to accompany him.
But "destiny" wanted things differently. The day before, a colleague of mine begged me to change shifts with her for Sunday, and that meant I had a free day. So I went along to the children's program.
You were there, and at first you were shy--you didn't talk very much, except to my brothers. We all dressed as clowns and painted our faces, and you brought your guitar. It was a hot day and there were tons of children. You played the guitar and we all sang along.
When we were done, we went to the van to change our clothes and take off our wigs and clown props, and we started talking. I told you about my work, my life, my boyfriend and my emptiness and dissolutionment--and you told me about your missionary work in Croatia.
You were 17 but had such passion about your life, the work you did, your goals and the meaning of life. You told me stories, adventures, testimonies and I sat next to you inside the hot van, taking in every word.
Before saying bye, you told me I should come and visit you in Croatia--I said I would.
It's when we least expect it, that something changes our life. I would have never dreamed that I would leave home and venture into a life of volunteer work--but then I met you, and you lit the spark. And I've never been the same ever since.
I came to visit you in August, for a week--and I realized that I wanted a life like yours. I wanted to be part of something greater than myself. I wanted to change the world. And that's how it all began...
You will never really know, Jonny, how much you changed me. But you did! And I am so grateful to you.
God bless you and keep you being a blessing to many! May love be your keeper!
Alicia
Jonny with children in Mexico
It's been a long time since I haven't heard from you--years in fact. A few days ago I got an email from you with a few photos and a little account of the work you are doing in Mexico with your family. You look radiant but then again, you've always been amazing!
I will never forget how we met, one May afternoon in Italy--it was shortly after my birthday. I was working at the old-folk's home in the neighboring town. I worked shifts and because I was young and usually willing, I worked more than the other nurse assistants, which meant that I didn't get many free days.
A mutual friend called my dad, asking him if he wouldn't mind helping organize a children's show, and because my dad had experience in that line of work he agreed. Three of my younger brothers and sisters would go with him, and my dad asked me if I wanted to come as well. I told him that I was working that particular Sunday and wouldn't be able to accompany him.
But "destiny" wanted things differently. The day before, a colleague of mine begged me to change shifts with her for Sunday, and that meant I had a free day. So I went along to the children's program.
You were there, and at first you were shy--you didn't talk very much, except to my brothers. We all dressed as clowns and painted our faces, and you brought your guitar. It was a hot day and there were tons of children. You played the guitar and we all sang along.
When we were done, we went to the van to change our clothes and take off our wigs and clown props, and we started talking. I told you about my work, my life, my boyfriend and my emptiness and dissolutionment--and you told me about your missionary work in Croatia.
You were 17 but had such passion about your life, the work you did, your goals and the meaning of life. You told me stories, adventures, testimonies and I sat next to you inside the hot van, taking in every word.
Before saying bye, you told me I should come and visit you in Croatia--I said I would.
It's when we least expect it, that something changes our life. I would have never dreamed that I would leave home and venture into a life of volunteer work--but then I met you, and you lit the spark. And I've never been the same ever since.
I came to visit you in August, for a week--and I realized that I wanted a life like yours. I wanted to be part of something greater than myself. I wanted to change the world. And that's how it all began...
You will never really know, Jonny, how much you changed me. But you did! And I am so grateful to you.
God bless you and keep you being a blessing to many! May love be your keeper!
Alicia
Jonny with children in Mexico
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Avatar vs. giving
I have a wonderful life and I have all that I need. But of course, sometimes there are things that I don't necessarily need but want. I grew up in a large family, and there were times when we had just enough to get by, so we learned at an early age to be economical.
Even now, I know the value of money and I try not to spend my money on things I don't really need. But it's nice to have a little extra to buy a book, or go out to eat, or even go to the cinema every now and then. I don't make a habit out of it, but there are times when I do treat myself with something special.
One Saturday morning, my friend Eden and I woke up early to go help at the homeless kitchen. We parked the car and walked half a block to the place, and on the way there I noticed something on the snow. I picked it up and it was 1000 Huf (less than 5 euros) and I waved it at Eden
"Look, I can finally go watch Avatar" I said and put it in my pocket and hurried to catch up with Eden.
Two days later I was in my room, and Eden came to sit on my bed and told me
"My sister just called me" her sister lives in Szeged, another city in Hungary "and she told me of a family she knows...the father is gone, it's only the grandma, mother, one son and a daughter. The daughter has cancer, that's how my sister met them--at the hospital..." Eden's sister goes to the Cancer Hospital to visit the patients and their families.
"She said that this family is so poor, that they all live in one room, and for a while they had no heating. But my other sister gave them money to fix their heater. Well, it looks like they have little food, and sometimes they can't even go to the hospital because they don't have money to pay the bus ticket."
Eden said "why don't we pray for them? I don't really know what else to do"
"well, I have a little money..." I said, thinking of the money I was saving to go to the cinema to watch Avatar in 3D "it's not much, but it's better than nothing..."
Well I didn't get to go to the cinema, but I am very happy I had that money put aside so that I could help the poor girl and her family. At the end of the day, is the things do we for others that count for a life well spent.
Eden and I at the Magyar-Maltai kitchen by Moszkva Ter
Even now, I know the value of money and I try not to spend my money on things I don't really need. But it's nice to have a little extra to buy a book, or go out to eat, or even go to the cinema every now and then. I don't make a habit out of it, but there are times when I do treat myself with something special.
One Saturday morning, my friend Eden and I woke up early to go help at the homeless kitchen. We parked the car and walked half a block to the place, and on the way there I noticed something on the snow. I picked it up and it was 1000 Huf (less than 5 euros) and I waved it at Eden
"Look, I can finally go watch Avatar" I said and put it in my pocket and hurried to catch up with Eden.
Two days later I was in my room, and Eden came to sit on my bed and told me
"My sister just called me" her sister lives in Szeged, another city in Hungary "and she told me of a family she knows...the father is gone, it's only the grandma, mother, one son and a daughter. The daughter has cancer, that's how my sister met them--at the hospital..." Eden's sister goes to the Cancer Hospital to visit the patients and their families.
"She said that this family is so poor, that they all live in one room, and for a while they had no heating. But my other sister gave them money to fix their heater. Well, it looks like they have little food, and sometimes they can't even go to the hospital because they don't have money to pay the bus ticket."
Eden said "why don't we pray for them? I don't really know what else to do"
"well, I have a little money..." I said, thinking of the money I was saving to go to the cinema to watch Avatar in 3D "it's not much, but it's better than nothing..."
Well I didn't get to go to the cinema, but I am very happy I had that money put aside so that I could help the poor girl and her family. At the end of the day, is the things do we for others that count for a life well spent.
Eden and I at the Magyar-Maltai kitchen by Moszkva Ter
Saturday, January 2, 2010
-20 degrees (Blessed are the meek)
I grew up in South America, in almost every country in the continent. I’ve been in the desert, the plains, the jungle, the mountains, the Pacific and the Atlantic Ocean. In early 2001 I moved to Europe, and I've lived in Italy, Croatia, Hungary, Poland, Czech Reppublic, Spain and visited many other countries in Eastern Europe. I’ve been in hot and cold climates, but last Christmas was the first time I experienced -20 degrees weather.
I moved out from Érd (a town in Hungary), and the little volunteer center that had been my home for the past 3 years, when I got an invitation from a family to come and work with them in the city. I’ve always liked adventure and new things, so it wasn’t difficult to move away and start a new life—although I did miss the friends I left behind, especially since it was Christmas and I wouldn’t be with them this time around.
Danci is one of my best friends—he is as crazy as me, or maybe more. We’ve gone to hospitals together—as part of our Clown Therapy programs, we’ve been together in our summer camps, and in fundraising ventures. He is been a friend, a brother, a mentor and an inspiration in difficult moments. I wanted to give him something special for Christmas—something unique, something meaningful. I finally decided that as my Christmas gift to him, I would go to the market with him.
The way things work for most of the volunteers centers I’ve know, is that it operates thanks to the help of others. Companies, individuals, other associations, goverment and various sources provide all sorts of help towards the volunteer work and thus the job gets done. One bakery donates bread, a milk company 60 liters of milk a month, an egg company in another city donate 12 crates of eggs, etc. We have friends at the market who donate fruits, and vegetables every week—and that’s what I meant by going to the market.
In the summer the market opens at night, from 12 till 8 in the morning. In the winter it opens at dawn, which means we have to get up early around 4 to be there in time.
That morning it was the coldest of my life, -20 degrees and even though I was wearing plenty of clothes, layers in fact, I was still freezing, I couldn’t feel my toes and my hands were stiff. Danci and I walked up and down the rows of trucks, pushing a trolley stacked with crates, and went around collecting the fruits and vegetables.
Farmers are not wealthy, some of them are struggling to make ends meet. Sometimes they can’t help; other times they help with very little, a small crate of carrots, a few cabagges, a bundle of parsley, some potatoes, but a little here and a little there adds up and at the end we have a decent ammount of supplies and we go home.
Because of the weather being so cold, there were less farmers at the market that mornig, and most of them were inside the truck and had only one crate out, so buyers would know what they were selling. I didn’t think we would get much that day, but we still made our rounds. Amazingly enough people gave of their products! One farmer said he was sorry but he didn’t have much to give but if we wanted some half-frozen cabbages we could take them. We thanked him profusely and went to the next person, and right and left people gave and soon we had our crates full.
I recently got a letter from a friend whom I haven’t seen in a long time. In the letter he told me how difficult his life has been lately and how nothing makes sense to him anymore. His finals lines were I have lost my faith in people. Pray for me!
I understand that life is difficult, and sometimes it seems we are fighting an lost cause. The world is not such a pretty place to be in any more—just read the news. It’s easy to lose faith in people, in ourselves, in God, in everything. I know how it feels!
But then when you wake up at the break of dawn, to go to the market with your best friend, and it’s the coldest you’ve every experienced in your life, and farmers—people who don’t have much to begin with, give you whatever little they have, it’s hard for me to say that there is no goodness in people.
I see it all the time, little deeds of kindness being perfomed in random places. Young people that give their seat to older ones in the tram; someone that helps a blind mand to cross the street; a man drops money and goes on his way and someone else runs after him to return it.
Of course the world is hard and cold. But there is good in the world, and there is goodness in people. All we have to do is look for it!
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Matthew 5:5
I moved out from Érd (a town in Hungary), and the little volunteer center that had been my home for the past 3 years, when I got an invitation from a family to come and work with them in the city. I’ve always liked adventure and new things, so it wasn’t difficult to move away and start a new life—although I did miss the friends I left behind, especially since it was Christmas and I wouldn’t be with them this time around.
Danci is one of my best friends—he is as crazy as me, or maybe more. We’ve gone to hospitals together—as part of our Clown Therapy programs, we’ve been together in our summer camps, and in fundraising ventures. He is been a friend, a brother, a mentor and an inspiration in difficult moments. I wanted to give him something special for Christmas—something unique, something meaningful. I finally decided that as my Christmas gift to him, I would go to the market with him.
The way things work for most of the volunteers centers I’ve know, is that it operates thanks to the help of others. Companies, individuals, other associations, goverment and various sources provide all sorts of help towards the volunteer work and thus the job gets done. One bakery donates bread, a milk company 60 liters of milk a month, an egg company in another city donate 12 crates of eggs, etc. We have friends at the market who donate fruits, and vegetables every week—and that’s what I meant by going to the market.
In the summer the market opens at night, from 12 till 8 in the morning. In the winter it opens at dawn, which means we have to get up early around 4 to be there in time.
That morning it was the coldest of my life, -20 degrees and even though I was wearing plenty of clothes, layers in fact, I was still freezing, I couldn’t feel my toes and my hands were stiff. Danci and I walked up and down the rows of trucks, pushing a trolley stacked with crates, and went around collecting the fruits and vegetables.
Farmers are not wealthy, some of them are struggling to make ends meet. Sometimes they can’t help; other times they help with very little, a small crate of carrots, a few cabagges, a bundle of parsley, some potatoes, but a little here and a little there adds up and at the end we have a decent ammount of supplies and we go home.
Because of the weather being so cold, there were less farmers at the market that mornig, and most of them were inside the truck and had only one crate out, so buyers would know what they were selling. I didn’t think we would get much that day, but we still made our rounds. Amazingly enough people gave of their products! One farmer said he was sorry but he didn’t have much to give but if we wanted some half-frozen cabbages we could take them. We thanked him profusely and went to the next person, and right and left people gave and soon we had our crates full.
I recently got a letter from a friend whom I haven’t seen in a long time. In the letter he told me how difficult his life has been lately and how nothing makes sense to him anymore. His finals lines were I have lost my faith in people. Pray for me!
I understand that life is difficult, and sometimes it seems we are fighting an lost cause. The world is not such a pretty place to be in any more—just read the news. It’s easy to lose faith in people, in ourselves, in God, in everything. I know how it feels!
But then when you wake up at the break of dawn, to go to the market with your best friend, and it’s the coldest you’ve every experienced in your life, and farmers—people who don’t have much to begin with, give you whatever little they have, it’s hard for me to say that there is no goodness in people.
I see it all the time, little deeds of kindness being perfomed in random places. Young people that give their seat to older ones in the tram; someone that helps a blind mand to cross the street; a man drops money and goes on his way and someone else runs after him to return it.
Of course the world is hard and cold. But there is good in the world, and there is goodness in people. All we have to do is look for it!
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Matthew 5:5
Resolutions for 2010
At the end of each year I take time to think back on the closing year--the accomplishments, the progress made, the happy times, and to set the goals for the new year.
This is something I've been doing since I can remember. I usually write a list of things I want to learn, places I want to go, projects I want to take on and how to go about them. And although I don't always end up achieving all the goals I intended, for the most part I have been able to keep up with my yearly resolutions.
A few days after Christmas I was thinking about my list--what should my goals be this year. That morning I went out early to help at the homeless shelter and I came back home at lunch time. Ben and Angela were visiting with their four children. Ben and Angela are volunteers in another centre in the outskirts of Budapest, and I've known them for years, but hadn't seen them in a while.
Angela and I sat after lunch in the living-room and talked a bit. She told me how difficult it has been in the few last years, to keep up with the work and take care of the children sometimes all single-handed. Especially when Ben goes out to take care of business and the organization of the centre they work in.
"You know, Alicia, sometimes I don't have anyone to talk to" Angela told me "Ben is wonderful and he helps so much. I don't want to complain. But I wish I had a friend..."
Right away I got my phone and told her to give me her number so I could call her and arrange it to go out for a coffee, or to the park with the kids or just to talk.
They left shortly after, and I went to make dinner. Eden came in the kitchen and I told her about Angela. I said "Isn't it terrible that we take people for granted? It makes me so sad" and of course it's no ones's fault but our own, when we get too busy to take care of people that surrounds us. We forget to be there for each other.
I was planning of writing a long list of things to accomplish in 2010. But I changed my mind--I will have only one thing on my to-do list, and that is to bring sunshine into other peoples lives. In whatever way I can, I will try to lighten their burden, bring laughter, share the load, encourage and comfort, let the light in, create magic.
The prayer of St. Francis goes like this:
Oh Master, that I may not seek to be consoled but to console
Not to be understood but to understand
Not to be loved but rather to love
That is my resolution for 2010.
This is something I've been doing since I can remember. I usually write a list of things I want to learn, places I want to go, projects I want to take on and how to go about them. And although I don't always end up achieving all the goals I intended, for the most part I have been able to keep up with my yearly resolutions.
A few days after Christmas I was thinking about my list--what should my goals be this year. That morning I went out early to help at the homeless shelter and I came back home at lunch time. Ben and Angela were visiting with their four children. Ben and Angela are volunteers in another centre in the outskirts of Budapest, and I've known them for years, but hadn't seen them in a while.
Angela and I sat after lunch in the living-room and talked a bit. She told me how difficult it has been in the few last years, to keep up with the work and take care of the children sometimes all single-handed. Especially when Ben goes out to take care of business and the organization of the centre they work in.
"You know, Alicia, sometimes I don't have anyone to talk to" Angela told me "Ben is wonderful and he helps so much. I don't want to complain. But I wish I had a friend..."
Right away I got my phone and told her to give me her number so I could call her and arrange it to go out for a coffee, or to the park with the kids or just to talk.
They left shortly after, and I went to make dinner. Eden came in the kitchen and I told her about Angela. I said "Isn't it terrible that we take people for granted? It makes me so sad" and of course it's no ones's fault but our own, when we get too busy to take care of people that surrounds us. We forget to be there for each other.
I was planning of writing a long list of things to accomplish in 2010. But I changed my mind--I will have only one thing on my to-do list, and that is to bring sunshine into other peoples lives. In whatever way I can, I will try to lighten their burden, bring laughter, share the load, encourage and comfort, let the light in, create magic.
The prayer of St. Francis goes like this:
Oh Master, that I may not seek to be consoled but to console
Not to be understood but to understand
Not to be loved but rather to love
That is my resolution for 2010.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Thank you for smiling...
About a month ago, I was on my way to the hospital to visit the children and make balloons for the little patients with Danci. He told me to meet at 10, but I was early, so instead of taking the tram I decided to walk thru the park instead and that way I wouldn't have to wait at the lobby for that extra half-hour.
On the way there, I noticed a line of shabby looking people waiting in front of a gate that went down a few steps to what I could see was a kitchen. I figured this was a homeless kitchen run by some kind of organization and I wrote down the info so I would google it at home.
I found out it's called the Magyar-Maltai and it's sort of like Caritas here in Hungary. A few days later, I met Danci in town and I made him come down with me to ask if they could use an extra pair of hands every now and then. The people working there were happily surprised to hear that I wanted to help. They told me they are open every working day from 6 to 12 in the morning and that if I didn't mind waking early I could come and help them butter bread and serve the tea.
Ever since, I've been going there once a week, usually on Tuesdays and I serve the tea and help clean up.
I don't do much, I sometimes can't make out what people are telling me and have to get someone else to repeat the question that was asked. I smile, say good morning, serve the tea, fill the bottles and if I understand at all what they tell me, I nod and perhaps answer in my poor Hungarian.
One day as I was serving tea, I was thinking to myself that perhaps it was silly of me to come at all--there was nothing I could offer these people. And believe, some of them are in real need--they have no homes, no hot meals, no place to go, no money to support their families, and all I was doing was serving tea. My friend Eden always says that if she had all the money in the world, she would build houses for the homeless and provide places for them to get ahead in life. But unfortunately we don't and what we do give away seems so insignificant compared to the need.
Those were my thoughts that morning as I filled cups when an older man, looking very raggedy and slovenly took his cup and said "Thank you for smiling..." Here he was, without a house, probably cold and hungry and he was thanking me for smiling.
And I realized that even if we don't have all them money in the world, and we cannot build houses and hospitals, every act of love that we do, counts. Believe it or not, even a smile!
Nell and I--Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!
On the way there, I noticed a line of shabby looking people waiting in front of a gate that went down a few steps to what I could see was a kitchen. I figured this was a homeless kitchen run by some kind of organization and I wrote down the info so I would google it at home.
I found out it's called the Magyar-Maltai and it's sort of like Caritas here in Hungary. A few days later, I met Danci in town and I made him come down with me to ask if they could use an extra pair of hands every now and then. The people working there were happily surprised to hear that I wanted to help. They told me they are open every working day from 6 to 12 in the morning and that if I didn't mind waking early I could come and help them butter bread and serve the tea.
Ever since, I've been going there once a week, usually on Tuesdays and I serve the tea and help clean up.
I don't do much, I sometimes can't make out what people are telling me and have to get someone else to repeat the question that was asked. I smile, say good morning, serve the tea, fill the bottles and if I understand at all what they tell me, I nod and perhaps answer in my poor Hungarian.
One day as I was serving tea, I was thinking to myself that perhaps it was silly of me to come at all--there was nothing I could offer these people. And believe, some of them are in real need--they have no homes, no hot meals, no place to go, no money to support their families, and all I was doing was serving tea. My friend Eden always says that if she had all the money in the world, she would build houses for the homeless and provide places for them to get ahead in life. But unfortunately we don't and what we do give away seems so insignificant compared to the need.
Those were my thoughts that morning as I filled cups when an older man, looking very raggedy and slovenly took his cup and said "Thank you for smiling..." Here he was, without a house, probably cold and hungry and he was thanking me for smiling.
And I realized that even if we don't have all them money in the world, and we cannot build houses and hospitals, every act of love that we do, counts. Believe it or not, even a smile!
Nell and I--Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!
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