my full heart.

The worst thing I feel right now is that I can't wait to leave. The realization that the ideal I had for leaving is so different than the reality, and I know that's where the largest disappointment lies. 

I had the best 6 months from January - July, and I cried so hard when I was leaving for 5 days in July. Now I am leaving for about 6 months, and I don't feel as sad. My life is changing more now than it did in July (new kids, new dormitory, new Year of Service to work with, Volunteers), yet I don't feel as sad as I did then. I don't know if it just hasn't hit me yet what it's really going to be like to not be here, or if the still immature part of me holds onto the anger I feel that 8-12 year old boys don't listen to me, or what it is. 


Saying goodnight to them is so easy. Most of them are better behaved/cuter/in their best state when it's late at night and they're tired. But it's also hard because with 50 boys, I can't really stay at their beds too long. I have to decide if I spend more time at one bed, other kids will be asleep by the time I arrive. Or if I pass to each bed, I really only have time to say "Goodnight, I love you, See you tomorrow". Certain times I would stay longer - birthdays, if they had visitors, had a really good/bad day, but looking back, I think one of my biggest non-regrets, because I don't want to have regrets, is that I didn't get to know each of the kids better. I really didn't want to have favorites, and the kids are starting to grow and have their own schedules (soccer, karate, dance group, various forms of therapy), that it was difficult to balance getting to know and support them while still getting the other more difficult kids to shower, was their clothes, stop fighting, getting dressed, etc. With 4 of us taking care of the kids most of the time, it can be challenging even if we're all in the section (not helping kids write letters to their godparents, taking kids to the clinic, going to the bathroom).

-my boys getting lined up to go to mass-

As I write this, I'm pretty sure that even if I wasn't getting kids to do their chores, and I got to know each one better, I still would never think it's enough. I care so deeply about these (now 49) boys, and the other 22 that I've taken care of this year, and I don't know how I am going to fill the void in my heart that these kids have made. They've pushed my patience to new levels, but also made my heart grow exponentially. I know that they aren't my kids by blood, but I would fight for each of them. To have a better life, to teach them they deserve a lot - how to weed out the people that hurt them more than help them, how to love unconditionally. I wish each of them the best - even the ones to whom I am just "just a volunteer", meaning I am nothing (on the food chain of the house), to the ones who don't listen time after time, who have temper tantrums and call me a witch & a bitch, which doesn't have such a nice ring in Spanish (bruja & perra). 


Their words sting, but I know (hope) that they know I am here for them. I don't expect them to fully understand what I left to come here - friends, family, a job, an income, driving, the 1st world accommodations we take for granted; but I hope that in time they realize that I really was here for them all year, and still now when I return home. Going back to my post from September 21st about my heart halves, I really have no idea what I'm going to do in 21 days when I'm back "home" in the United States. 

-view from the patio every night-