Friday, January 8, 2010


So as a pirate may have told you, I am on vacation. I am visiting my best friend Nick and his family. So far the adventures are abounding.

Nick's nephew has earned us a free lunch with his screaming from his car seat in the drive thru (we got to the window and were informed our Chick-Fil-A was on the house), we've chilled in a bookstore, purchased clothes for Bails, and today we explored the Science Center where I did something I really hate to do, and that is touch that static-electricity-ball thing that makes your hair stick up (irrational fear). My suitcase was lost and then returned, so I wore Nick's deodorant for a couple of days, and I think I am going to be roped into skiing on Tuesday (not exactly my best sport) after visiting Niagara Falls. Currently Nick and his friend Beth are making pico de gallo and I am anti-socially blogging over here in the living room. What can I say, I don't exactly feel like chopping onions and tomatoes.

Our first night here we were recruited to help teach K-3rd graders in their midweek Bible class. The kids led us in a rap-style version of a song called "The Holy Books," and then we learned about a widow in the Bible who fed Elijah the last of her food, even though she was very poor and only had enough to feed herself and her son. Because the widow was obedient and trusted Elijah and Elijah's God, there was more than enough food leftover. Miss Dee, our instructor for the evening, explained that this particular widow had a very significant story and impact, but nonetheless her name is never mentioned in the story. Dee described the widow as "nameless" to the chillin's. During our lesson on sharing, a little girl named Gracie politely raised her hand and when called on, calmly asked, "Are all widows nameless?" I had to tell myself not to laugh at the preciously innocent question and was glad that Miss Dee fielded the question and explained that "No, not all widows are nameless."

Following our lesson the children performed a sharing skit, in which director Nick set the stage by writing "CAFETERIA" on the dry-erase board and cast me as "the lunch lady." My part involved standing and remaining silent.

I love it here.