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
Saturday, January 2, 2010
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!!!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
News...
For those of you who don't know what I have been up to ever since I came back from Romania this summer, I will get you updated:
-On October I came back from a one-month seminar/camp for young volunteers held in Timisoara, Romania
-I moved out from Erd. Now I live in Budapest (close to Savoya Park, on the XIth distict) with a family with 4 children.
-I go to the Janos Korhaz with Danci pretty much every two weeks, on Friday.
-Once a week (usually on Tuesdays)I go help out the Magyar-Maltai Szeretetszolgalat kitchen for homeless, right on Moszkva Ter.
-With a friend we go to the Orthopedic Clinic, by Karolina Utca, to visit the children's ward once a week, on Thursday around 6pm.
These are just some of the projects I am personally involved with. I will try to post photos, as soon as I can get a camera.
Thank you so much for your prayers and support!! God bless you!
-On October I came back from a one-month seminar/camp for young volunteers held in Timisoara, Romania
-I moved out from Erd. Now I live in Budapest (close to Savoya Park, on the XIth distict) with a family with 4 children.
-I go to the Janos Korhaz with Danci pretty much every two weeks, on Friday.
-Once a week (usually on Tuesdays)I go help out the Magyar-Maltai Szeretetszolgalat kitchen for homeless, right on Moszkva Ter.
-With a friend we go to the Orthopedic Clinic, by Karolina Utca, to visit the children's ward once a week, on Thursday around 6pm.
These are just some of the projects I am personally involved with. I will try to post photos, as soon as I can get a camera.
Thank you so much for your prayers and support!! God bless you!
Friday, November 13, 2009
A simple life
This story always made me laugh...
An American buisnessman was at the pier of a small Mexican coastal village whena small boat with just one fisherman docked. In the boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, “Only a little while”
The American then asked why he didn’t stay out longer and catch more fish.
The fisherman said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.
The American then asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”
The fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife Maria. Then I stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, señor.”
“I am a Harvard MBA,” the American scoffed, “I could help you. You should spend more time fishing. With the proceeds you could buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to middleman you would sell directly to the processor eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles, and eventually New York City, where you would run your expanding enterprise.”
The fisherman asked, “But señor, how long will this all take?”
“Fifteen or twenty years.”
“But what then, señor?”
The American laughed and said “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”
“Millions, señor? Then what?”
The American said, “Then you would retire and move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with you r grandchildren, take siestas with your wife Maria, and stroll to the village in the evening where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”—Author unknown
An American buisnessman was at the pier of a small Mexican coastal village whena small boat with just one fisherman docked. In the boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, “Only a little while”
The American then asked why he didn’t stay out longer and catch more fish.
The fisherman said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.
The American then asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”
The fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife Maria. Then I stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, señor.”
“I am a Harvard MBA,” the American scoffed, “I could help you. You should spend more time fishing. With the proceeds you could buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to middleman you would sell directly to the processor eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles, and eventually New York City, where you would run your expanding enterprise.”
The fisherman asked, “But señor, how long will this all take?”
“Fifteen or twenty years.”
“But what then, señor?”
The American laughed and said “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”
“Millions, señor? Then what?”
The American said, “Then you would retire and move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with you r grandchildren, take siestas with your wife Maria, and stroll to the village in the evening where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”—Author unknown
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Friendship
Yesterday was the birthday of one of my dearest friend. His name is Joe and he is a volunteer in Tanzania, along with his wife and baby son. Because it was his birthday, I thought a lot about him--the way he made me smile, the moments we shared together, all the happiness he brought along. I've been blessed with his friendship.
I read this quote recently: "A friend--the one who comes in when the whole World has gone out" and it got me thinking of the many wonderful friends I have.
Each one, unique in their own way, have brought sunshine into my life, and helped me face the storms that threatened to blow away my courage, my faith, my dreams.
Some friends have been around for a long time, others I've met recently, but all of them are treasured and I am so thankful for them all. For believing in me, for lending an undestanding hand in difficult situations, for holding me when I broke down in tears, for creating magic in my life.
I don't know much about life and how things are supposed to be--all I know is I am here today thanks to the support of many incredible people I am proud to call friends.
And I love each of you! Thanks for your friendship! Happy Birthday Joe Crosby in Africa!!!
Perhaps this is love after all, to bring so much sunshine into the other person’s life that the shadows vanish. There is no room for darkness in a place where the light shines brightly.
I read this quote recently: "A friend--the one who comes in when the whole World has gone out" and it got me thinking of the many wonderful friends I have.
Each one, unique in their own way, have brought sunshine into my life, and helped me face the storms that threatened to blow away my courage, my faith, my dreams.
Some friends have been around for a long time, others I've met recently, but all of them are treasured and I am so thankful for them all. For believing in me, for lending an undestanding hand in difficult situations, for holding me when I broke down in tears, for creating magic in my life.
I don't know much about life and how things are supposed to be--all I know is I am here today thanks to the support of many incredible people I am proud to call friends.
And I love each of you! Thanks for your friendship! Happy Birthday Joe Crosby in Africa!!!
Perhaps this is love after all, to bring so much sunshine into the other person’s life that the shadows vanish. There is no room for darkness in a place where the light shines brightly.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
What Auschwitz taught me
I visited Auschwitz during my stay in Poland—Auschwitz was the largest of Nazi Gerrmany’s concentration and extermination camps during World War II.
Reading about it and actually going to see the place are two very different things. I knew what to expect—I watched movies, seen documentaries, and read countless books on the subject and yet that didn’t prepare me to the horrors of the place.
I visited the chambers, saw thru the windows the suitcases that were taken away from the prisoners and thrown in great piles. I went down to the basement of Block 11—also known as the Prison within the prison, and saw the standing cells, the starvation cells and the dark cells—one of which Father Kolbe gave his life to save another prisoner sentenced to death and died of starvation in August 14, 1941.
I walked the execution yard and ran my fingers through the wall where prisoners were lined up and shot. I went into the gas chambers and the showers.
I cried when I saw photos of the children, and when I heard the stories of the prisoners. Each story became my own, each person as part of my family. It’s difficult for me to understand the extent of human cruelty against its fellow man. Aren’t we all the same in the eyes of the Lord?
As I walked from building to building, and saw the brutality and horrible conditions of the place I couldn’t help thinking of those I love—my friends, my family, those I work with. I thought that I would never let another moment pass me by without letting them know how special they are—how much they are loved.
Auschwitz taught me that every life is important, that every person is unique and must be respected. Auschwitz taught me that in order to make the world a better place, we have to accept one another. Auschwitz taught me that love is all that matters—and we have to show it.
Daniella and I with the kids in Deva during our English Camp in July 2009
Reading about it and actually going to see the place are two very different things. I knew what to expect—I watched movies, seen documentaries, and read countless books on the subject and yet that didn’t prepare me to the horrors of the place.
I visited the chambers, saw thru the windows the suitcases that were taken away from the prisoners and thrown in great piles. I went down to the basement of Block 11—also known as the Prison within the prison, and saw the standing cells, the starvation cells and the dark cells—one of which Father Kolbe gave his life to save another prisoner sentenced to death and died of starvation in August 14, 1941.
I walked the execution yard and ran my fingers through the wall where prisoners were lined up and shot. I went into the gas chambers and the showers.
I cried when I saw photos of the children, and when I heard the stories of the prisoners. Each story became my own, each person as part of my family. It’s difficult for me to understand the extent of human cruelty against its fellow man. Aren’t we all the same in the eyes of the Lord?
As I walked from building to building, and saw the brutality and horrible conditions of the place I couldn’t help thinking of those I love—my friends, my family, those I work with. I thought that I would never let another moment pass me by without letting them know how special they are—how much they are loved.
Auschwitz taught me that every life is important, that every person is unique and must be respected. Auschwitz taught me that in order to make the world a better place, we have to accept one another. Auschwitz taught me that love is all that matters—and we have to show it.
Daniella and I with the kids in Deva during our English Camp in July 2009
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