Saturday, December 27, 2014

The Power of Words

“Yes the Führer decided that he would rule the world with words. ‘I will never fire a gun,’ he devised, ‘I will not have to.’ Still, he was not rash. Let’s allow him at least that much. He was not a stupid man at all. His first plan of attack was to plant the words in as many areas of his homeland as possible. He planted them day and night, and cultivated them. He watched them grow, until eventually, great forests of words had risen throughout Germany….It was a nation of farmed thoughts.” (The Book Thief by Markus Zusak)
Although this quote is talking about Hitler using words to rule Germany and then kill thousands of innocent people, it is a very powerful quote that does not just apply to Hitler. This quote is very deep, discussing how powerful words are. I bet you’ve heard your parents telling you to be careful of what you say. And if you’re old enough you know that words can kill. We seem to always underestimate the power of words.
We look at twenty-six different letters and we see how they have millions of combinations that create thoughts and ideas. Isn’t it amazing how that works? Twenty-six letters can kill someone. I bet you’ve heard this and it’s now cliché to you, but it’s so true. Take a look though, twenty-six letters can also give someone life. We tend to look at the negative impact of words more than we look at the positive impact of them. Just as Hitler used his words to convince people to create a “better” or “perfect” Germany by killing Jews, Martin Luther King Jr. used his words to promote equality in the United States.
Sometimes it is harder to use words for good, as it’s so much easier to yell an insult than a compliment. Maybe that’s why most people hear how words hurt not how words heal. But also, meaner words tend to become lodged deep in the heart while nicer words tend to bounce off. Why? How come a “you’re ugly” sticks more than a “you’re beautiful?” I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that God’s words stick. They tell us over and over again that we are saved and loved. He tells us not to be afraid. He tells us we are fearfully and wonderfully made. He tells us how perfect His creations are. It’s a lot easier to tell yourself to stop listening to the bad words than it is to actually ignore them. But we need to. We need to ignore the bad and accept the good. The Bible is the most read piece of literature in the world. Maybe Hitler used words to gain power and then to try to wipe out an entire race, but God uses words to display His power and to show how much we are loved.

Words hurt. That’s a known fact. An almost unknown fact is that words also heal. I used to believe that I was nothing until I had a real relationship with God. Now I know I’m cherished and loved. It still hurts sometimes when someone insults you, but I’ve got God who’ll tell me right after that those words are nothing and He loves me. Because it’s very hard to ignore the crap (excuse the word) that people sometimes throw at us, I’ll say instead: speak nice words. It is hard to give compliments or to just be nice in general but if we want others to start changing the ugly for the pretty, we need to do the same. I need to do the same. I’ll say things that I don’t necessarily mean, they just come out. I need to control my tongue. Today though, I resolve to try my best to say the nice things instead of the bad. If I want the world to change, I need to help change it. If you want the world to change, you have to help change it. If we want the world to change, we must help it to change. Hitler changed the world but so did Martin Luther King Jr. and Jesus Christ. We decide whether our words will hurt or heal. We have the choice to either change the world for good or for bad. Which will it be? And I know it’s not an easy journey but if we try our very best, we can do it. Let us aspire to be world changers through our words. Twenty-six letters, millions of combinations, millions of little ways to change the world.

Goodbye, until next time!

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Christmas Celebration

I’ll talk a bit about how I celebrate Christmas. Even if it isn’t Christmas just yet, it’s only five days away. First of all as Christians we celebrate Christmas focusing mostly on the “Christ” part of Christmas. I was told when I was very young that Santa Claus did not exist. Nor did his home on the North Pole, I mean I know the North Pole exists but it isn’t where Santa has his reindeer, elves, and house. My parents taught me the meaning of Christmas when I was little and I’ve heard the story about a million times. My mom even created a book with Bible scripture about Jesus’ birth, why we celebrate Christmas. We read that book every Christmas for as long as I can remember. I love that book! We never had a Christmas tree or lights or any decorations until about three to four years ago. We now have a tree, lights, and a few decorations. We have a tradition every Christmas morning of my mom cooking coffee cake and putting a candle in it, we’ll sing Happy Birthday to Jesus and then blow the candle out. After we eat, we’ll read the book and then open our presents. We’ll then spend the day using our presents and chilling out.

                As an MK, Christmas has been a bit different for the past, almost, seven years. We don’t have snow and it isn’t nearly as cold as it would be in the United States. It does get chilly but there isn’t frost or anything that cold. In all the movies it always shows people playing in the snow when it is Christmas time, yet I know several Hondurans who have never seen snow. Snow does not equal Christmas. We still see lights up here in Honduras but not nearly as many or as extravagant as in the States. Also, because we live so far away we haven’t been back to the States for Christmas in all the years we’ve lived here. It’s very expensive to travel to the States in general at this time of year, even more for six people, plus it’s such a short time. We have to find other ways to celebrate like we used to do in the States. In the States we would spend one year with my grandparents and other family on my mom’s side and the next year with my other grandparents and family on my dad’s side. We would have big parties on Christmas Eve but still have our little Christmas with only us six on Christmas Day.We’d eat a lot of food both days and play in the snow and give presents to each other. Now we can’t do that since all our family is several miles away. The last two or three years we went to one of my close friend’s on Christmas Eve and had a big dinner with our church family. But they recently moved and we’re figuring out what we’ll do instead. I think we’ll have a small dinner with some friends that stayed in the country for the holidays. On Christmas Day we resort to having a big lunch and doing nothing all day, just us six. We tried having a party on Christmas Day with friends but it was a lot of work, so we said it was more fun to just do nothing.
                I love spending Christmas with my family. I love reading the book and eating coffee cake and eating a big lunch. I love opening presents that I know they thought of me when they bought them or made them. I love doing nothing all day. I may not get an iPhone or a new TV for Christmas; instead I have wonderful family time. I’m blessed to have such an awesome family. I’ll miss them something awful when I go to college, maybe I’ll make it back for Christmas. Christmas is a time for family, God included; it is not about the presents or even the food. It’s time for people to stop thinking about what they get for Christmas from their friends and family but the Ultimate Present from God: Jesus.


                Merry Christmas, until next time!

Sunday, December 7, 2014

25 Questions


Sorry, but because I didn’t have time to write an official blog post, I decided to do one about random facts about me. So I looked up some “get to know me” questions and I decided to do 25. So whether you think you know me well or you don’t know me well, here are 25 random questions about me:

What was your favorite food when you were a child? When I was a kid I loved my mom’s Chili con Carne, I still love it but then it was my favorite meal ever.

What’s the #1 most played song on your iPod? I don’t have an iPod so I’ll just give my two favorite songs right now. I always change my favorite songs, about each week I have a new favorite song. But I’ll give two, one Christian; Kerrie Roberts What Are You Afraid Of, and one Secular: Ed Sheeran Thinking Out Loud.

What is one of your favorite quotes? For this one I’ll give my favorite Bible verse: “I knew you before you were formed in your mother’s womb, before you were born I set you apart.” Jeremiah 1:5. And my favorite quote is: “You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, and there’s still going to be someone who hates peaches.” Lana del Rey (I’m not a big fan of her, but I really love this quote and I find it so true!)


What’s your favorite indoor/outdoor activity? My favorite indoor activity besides being on my computer, is reading. My favorite outdoor activity would probably be reading as well, I’m basing this off of if I was alone. I wouldn’t be exercising outside or inside for that matter, I don’t enjoy exercise and there isn’t much else to do outside. I used to play outside but I’m kind of old for that now!

What chore do you absolutely hate doing? I used to hate doing the dishes but now it’s routine and it isn’t that bad. That’s the only chore I really do, but I can say for sure I hate taking the food out from the sink, it’s really gross!

What is your favorite form of exercise? None! If I would do exercise it would be by playing soccer or swimming. But I really don’t like exercise.

What is your favorite time of day of the week/month of the year? My favorite time of day is the night actually; I tend to think better at night. I’m not a morning person so night is better or early evening or late afternoon I like too. In the States I like the Fall months but in Honduras I like the months at the end of rainy season but before dry season.

What’s your least favorite mode of transportation? It would probably be the public buses in Honduras because they are noisy, smelly, and scary.

What is your favorite body part? This is an odd question but I’d say my eyes.


What sound do you love? I love the sound of rain on a window or on the tin roofs here in Honduras; or just the rain in general. I find it soothing and relaxing.

If you could throw any kind of party, what would it be like and what would it be for? I don’t know what I would throw a party for, maybe just a get-together where I’d have all my close friends and we’d eat junk food and watch movies and stay up all night, maybe music, but good music, too. It would be for my closest friends to meet finally!


If you could paint a picture of any scenery you’ve seen before, what would you paint? I would paint the hills of Honduras, they are absolutely beautiful! But I can’t draw to save my life, so it’s better I don’t!

If you could choose to stay a certain age forever, what age would it be? Forever is a long time, I’d say 25 because I’m not too young nor too old and I think it would be fun to stay that age, it wouldn’t be weird for me to have kids or not. I think it would be cool!


If you knew the world was ending in 2015, what would you do differently? I would spend all my time with family and friends, in person though. I would try to love them to the best of my ability and I would try to lead the non-Christian friends to Christ as I’d hate to be separated from them. I would try to be nicer to people, even when they are mean, and I might try to be a bit more vulnerable but I don’t know.

If you could choose anyone, who would you pick as your mentor? I would pick Queen Esther from the Bible because she was awesome, I think she is a wonderful role model and I admire her.

If you could witness any event past, present or future, what would it be? I would like to witness the coming of Christ, in the future.

If you could learn to do anything, what would it be? I would like to learn how to dance, as I can’t dance to save my life as of right now.

If you had to work on only one project for the next year, what would it be? I would like to work on a movie, I’d like to act for a movie and make sure that it’s good so it would take a year to film!

If you were immortal for a day, what would you do? I would try jumping from really high up, because I know I wouldn’t die when I hit the bottom, but I might be too scared to do it. I might try some life threatening stunt because I know I could survive!

If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to? I wouldn’t want to change my name but if I had to I would change it to Anastasia.


If you could meet anyone, living or dead, who would you meet? I would meet either Taylor Swift or Queen Esther.


If you won the lottery, what is the first thing you would do? I would make sure my family had everything they needed, maybe buy them (us) a bigger house or I would help my mom with anything our ministry needs or help my dad with his education revolutionary ideas.


If you were reincarnated as an animal/drink/ice cream flavor, what would it be? I don’t believe in reincarnation but if I did I would want to be mint chocolate chip ice cream because it’s delicious.


If you could know the answer to any question, besides “What is the meaning of life?” what would it be? My question would be: How does God see me? Like am I following Him to the best of my ability or am I slacking off?

If you could be any fictional character, who would you choose? I would want to be either Hermione Granger from Harry Potter or Olaf from Frozen.









Goodbye, until next time!

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Yamaranguila Adventures (Part 2)

I decided to continue the story of Yamaranguila. Even though we only lived there for three months, it was a crucial moment for our family. We realized that being a missionary family was not going to be easy. We realized how far we really were from home. I mean we obviously knew we were far away but this was the time we realized that everything we knew was gone. We had a taste of what it was like to be outside our comfort zone. We no longer had things that we used to never have to think about. We still sometimes have things like that but now we’re somewhat used to it.
This was what our house looked like.
There is the family and the guard of the complex plus one of the orphan girls.
When we moved we were shocked first by where we were going to live. We saw we were living on a complex and so we had our house and several other buildings and a chain-link fence surrounding the entire complex. The house we moved into was United States looking but it wasn’t the same. In the States we were used to wooden houses or ones that had sheet-rock; our house was made of cement. We had no dishwasher, which wasn’t too odd as our grandparents didn’t have a dishwasher, but it meant us kids had to wash dishes. It was more of the house wasn’t right for our family, it was odd. One of the weirdest things was that missions teams would walk through the back door without knocking because it used to be the place where they ate. We would sit down for dinner and suddenly the door would open and a man would start to come in, think better of it, apologize, and then leave.

Us sisters were the only real playmates we had.
Right next door to our house was the orphanage which had two little girls and a family of four living there. The house looked very much like ours, it just had more rooms. The family was very nice, but we didn’t speak any Spanish so we couldn’t really play with them. The family’s oldest was fifteen (I think) and the younger one was ten (I think), the two orphan girls were five and four (I think, I say this because it was a long time ago and I’m not 100% positive). We would go over to their house sometimes and I remember watching one of the Rocky movies in Spanish but I didn’t understand anything. We couldn’t really play with toys as they didn’t have very many and we were told not to let them into our house so they didn’t steal our toys. I know that sounds awful to be judgmental about a people and assume they’d steal but we were warned not to let people into our house unless we fully trusted them. We did end up having the older girls in to play once we knew them more. It was hard to play with them since we didn’t speak the same language and so we didn’t form a strong connection with the family.
On the complex we had a church in the center and when teams came down they would have a dental clinic in the church. My family would be helping the dentists out, we would pass them tools or help keep the people’s mouths open, or run errands. While there was a team down a little bubble in my mouth appeared. We showed it to the dentists and they told me it was a swollen glad and In order for it not to come back they would need to cut it open and stitch it up. I did not want stitches in my mouth but my dad told me I had to. I sat down in the chair and closed my eyes, imagining playing with my best friend again, as they stitched the glad up. It was odd having stitches in my mouth and I didn’t like it. While I was eating later that evening, one of the stitches came undone and I freaked out thinking I ruined it. I went to the dentists and they said that when it was time the stitches would come out, no need to worry. Phew! I was very thankful that a team was there when I had that happen to my mouth because I wouldn’t have been able to fix it if they weren’t there.

My chipped tooth!
Also in that church we’d have a service either on Saturday or Sunday, I don’t remember well, but we’d have people from the village come to hear the sermon. My family took on the task of leading worship, with my mom playing keyboard and my dad on guitar, and I think I sang with them or me and my sister did. One time after the service, I was playing with the microphone and my mom told me to stop touching it. I didn’t listen to her and I pulled the microphone out of the stand straight into my mouth. I slammed it hard against my teeth and I remember moving the microphone away from my mouth and tasting pieces of something, I thought it was the microphone itself. I look down and I see something white on the microphone and in my hand. I freaked out as my tongue felt at my tooth, or what was left of it. I ran into my house and looked into the mirror. I had chipped my tooth! It was not a baby tooth that would fall out soon either; it was a fully grown tooth, no replacing that one. I remember looking into the mirror and telling myself that I looked like a monster. I now realize that only a tiny bit of my tooth was chipped, but then, it looked like half of it was gone! I cried for a very long time and I was ashamed to tell my parents, especially my mom. I eventually did tell them and they didn’t freak out like I thought they would. There happened to be a lady dentist there that lives in Honduras and she offered to fix my tooth, the next time we went to the capitol, for free. We were very grateful for this!

I got my tooth fixed; I’m not sure if it was still in those three months or after we moved to Zambrano. Nothing else happened in Yamaranguila that was too crazy or shocking. The rest of my stories occurred in other areas of Honduras. We lived in Yamaranguila for such a small amount of time and it was quite a long time ago so I can’t remember too much of what happened. I remember certain events, but mainly I remember certain feelings. Even though we don’t have very many fond memories of living in Yamaranguila, we don’t regret living there. Yamaranguila, thankfully, did not ruin the rest of our outlook on Honduras. We just took it as another stepping stone for the missionary life we had ahead of us!

Goodbye, until next time!

Sunday, November 16, 2014

College Tips

In the spirit of my finishing most of my college applications, I am going to give some tips in finding the best college for you. And I know you’ve probably seen several of these but I have some things that helped me and I thought I could share them.
1.       Make a Possibility List
When schools come to visit your school, ask questions on what you think you’d want in college.
I say ‘think’ because you may not know what you want until you see the school doesn’t have it. So ask questions like: Do you have _________ major? What is the student to teacher ratio? How big are the class sizes? Tuition and total costs? Scholarships? And the list continues. If you see that your questions are being answered to your liking, remember that school! Write it down if you have to, tell your parents, just remember it! I remembered my list of seven colleges by telling my parents about them.
2.       Visit (if Possible)
Once you have your list, try to visit them. Once you see the campus, you might be able to say that one college is better than the other. I am blessed with a mom who plans our summer trips to the States (every two years or so) in detail. This summer she added a full road trip going from North Carolina to Virginia to Tennessee to Missouri to Illinois to Michigan to Ohio to Pennsylvania to New York to Connecticut, and finally, to New Hampshire. Not every state on this list had a college that we looked at, it was just the way she planned it. The seven colleges were in NC, VA, TN, MI, PA, and NY. By visiting the colleges I could see if I would fit in while
walking around campus. I would ask myself if I saw myself walking these halls and living in these dorms. I was also able to feel the spiritual aspect of the school. I could see if the schools were strict Christian schools, loose Christian schools, or just schools who had the name ‘Christian’ plastered on the flyer. Through visiting I was able to narrow my options down to four.
3.       Which is Number One?
Now that you narrowed down your list, if you were able to do so, you need to decide which one is your favorite. You can talk to your parents, mentors, siblings, friends, and God about this. I mainly talked to God about my decision. I laid out my four college brochures and I felt myself leaning toward a certain college. This college was my favorite while visiting, it had my major and the campus was beautiful, it had a wonderful spiritual aspect as well. I felt God telling me that this college was the one. I was hesitant at choosing that as my top as I didn’t want to make a mistake in choosing. But I realized that I really loved this school and if I felt God leading me to it, then I shouldn’t be fighting it. What I did was establish that one as my number one and then I told myself to be prepared for it to change. It never did.
So, take your list and number them from the perspective of, “If I get accepted to all, I’d choose…” And go from there. So I have my colleges ranked from 1-4, with the best case scenario being me getting accepted to all.
4.       Is This the End?
When I had my list I was wondering if I should keep it like that and not add any more. But even if I had my list, my school would still have college visits looking for students to apply to their university. Since there were still schools coming to my school I decided to pay attention even if I had my list. While doing this I added a fifth school to my list. I kept my ears open just to see if there was anything else out there.I also talked with my dad about it and it was alright to apply to that newly-added-to-my-list college. I still have my number one, but you never know, maybe God had planned for me to go somewhere else than my number one but I didn’t see it yet?
5.       Apply
This is the final step, well before you have to actually say ‘yes’ to a certain institution. When you ask questions, in steps 1, 2, and 4, ask how to apply. Find out if you need to mail it, if it is online, or if it is on the Common Application. Once you figure this out, you start the application process. Make sure you have everything you need!
                This is the end of my tips for college searching or at least what was best for me when I was looking. Some of these things you may have seen in other lists or in other people’s stories. Some of the things you may never have thought of them. College planning is a crazy time. I mean, you’re figuring out what’s going to happen in your future. Looking into the future is sometimes scary. But nevertheless, it is a necessary process in life: to look into the future. Don’t take this “looking into the future” as a way to plan it out and get angry if things don’t come out the way you want them to. Right now I’m in the 6th step and soon I’ll be playing the waiting game!

                Goodbye, until next time!

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Yamaranguila Adventures (Part I)

When we first moved to Honduras, there were several things that were strange to us. Since we were so used to the United States, it was weird to see how certain things were done in Honduras. We had only come on a week missions trip before moving, so we weren’t experts on Honduran culture.
               
The first place we lived in was called Yamaranguila. Yamaranguila was in the middle of nowhere, high in the mountains. It was past another town in the middle of nowhere, called La Esperanza. It took about thirty to forty-five minutes to get into La Esperanza. So when we went into that town, we’d usually stay for quite a while. We would go into La Esperanza to do our grocery shopping. We would have to go to three different stores to buy all the food that we would need for six people for a week or so. Other people would not only be staring at us for having white skin and for speaking English, but also for buying so much food. Most Hondurans would shop for that day and then come back tomorrow for tomorrow’s food. They didn’t plan ahead or have a grocery list like we did. If they forgot something, they would just come back for what they missed. We would have to wait until the next time we drove into La Esperanza, that’s why we made sure we didn’t forget anything.
                We would also drive into La Esperanza to go to the internet café. We did not have internet at our house and the only way we could access the internet was by going into the town. The internet café was a small building with a little desk, a little bathroom in the back, and finally a row of cubicles with a computer per cubicle. You paid for a certain amount of time to use the computer. We would go for an hour or two so that my parents could update people in the States about what was happening with our family. A lot of times we would split up and have one parent go to the café and the other goes shopping; we kids would choose
This isn't the one we went to, but it was similar.
who to go with. When we went as a whole family to the café, the kids would sometimes use a computer for “homework” our dad would give us; as he homeschooled us for a while. Going to the café wasn’t that much fun but it was necessary to go. I remember one time I got sick with diarrhea (I know it isn’t pleasant but it happened!) when we were at the café. I had to go into that little bathroom, because there was nowhere else, and I had to bring in my own toilet paper and sit down on the gross seat. It was horrible. I felt terrible and that bathroom was so disgusting. But I loved that bathroom, as it was such a relief to have somewhere, no matter how icky, to go.
                In Yamaranguila we owned this little van/bus and we called it the busito (little bus). Now this busito was a terrible car for Yamaraguila. The roads were so dusty that the car would fill with the white powder and then shut down. We got stranded a couple times on the road to and from La Esperanza. Once the car wouldn’t turn on in La Esperanza so we couldn’t go home, we were stuck there. My dad stayed to get it fixed and the rest of us took a yellow bus half way to Yamaranguila and I think someone from the complex we lived on picked us up from there. Now, for those who do not live in Honduras, a yellow bus is a school bus used as a form of public transportation. These buses are not the safest or the most comfortable. They tend to be overcrowded and smelly. They cost about a dollar to ride but you never know what will happen on them. Thus we did not want to be on that bus for very long and were happy when we finally got to get off. Another time a rock from the road shot up into the underside of the car and caused it to stop working. We were stuck on the actual road to La Esperanza and had to call someone from the complex to pick us up. That busito might have lasted longer had it not been through those Yamaranguila roads. We no longer have that car, as it doesn’t work anymore and it costs way more to fix it than it did to buy a new one.
             
   There are many other things that occurred in Yamaranguila, even if we only lived there for a couple months. In another post I will add to these adventures, but for now this is all. Yamaranguila was a fun time, yet crazy. There were so many weird things and odd customs that we did not understand. We were first time missionaries and we didn’t know if this life would work. Now we live about three to four hours away from Yamaranguila and we no longer have our crappy car (sorry if you don’t like the word, there is no other way to put it). We don’t have to drive for a long time to get to a grocery store, nor do we have to go to three different ones. We also don’t have to go into the city to an internet café as we have internet at our house. Many things have changed since Yamaranguila, it seems as if it were for the best though. I sometimes miss it but I’m glad I’m where I am now. I’m happy and safe, no worries about shopping at three different places or cars getting filled with dust. Yamaranguila, even with the crazy stuff, wasn’t a bad place to live; it was actually quite fun!

                Goodbye, until next time!

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Best Friend Adventures (Part I)

Some of the craziest things I've done in Honduras have been with my best friends. Today I’ll share some of the ridiculous things I've done with my best friend who lived in the middle of nowhere. She lived about thirty minutes higher into the mountains than we did; this is when we lived in Zambrano. She was the first MK I met and my first MK best friend. She was also my only friend in Honduras at the time of meeting her.
                When we first met, neither of us liked the other. I thought she was a stuck-up farm girl and she thought I was a stuck-up city girl. We both were wrong. We ended up realizing how much we had in common even with her being a farm-girl and me being a city-girl. We only found out how cool the other was when I went to her house for the first time. My whole family came to hang out with her family. She took me and my sisters, much to my dismay, to their chili patch a little ways away from the house. I can’t remember the conversation we had but it ended well. By the time we left, I knew I made a new friend. I remember playing some kind of spy game; little did I know that this game was the beginning of many, many others.

                There were several games and stories we made up, with several characters, places, and plots. There are too many to count, so I’ll only tell a few that I can remember most specifically. The game we most commonly played was spies. We played in different places too. We played in her house, in a missionary couple’s house when they left for the States for a month or so. We played by the river, in land owned by others or by her dad. We played in San Francisco (the town thirty min. away from us) and in Botijas (the town she later moved to, an hour away from us), we rarely played at my house though as there wasn't as much space to run around. We had different names from our real names, we had a couple names but the ones we used the most were Autumn (me) and Summer (her). We would always pretend to be undercover as singers so no one would know we were spies. We always had male characters that liked us or were teaming with us. Their names changed quite a bit. We would dress up sometimes, but not that often since we ran outside and got dirty.
                On many occasions we would walk down to the river in shorts, t-shirts, and flip-flops and swim or play in the mud. As much as it sounds gross, it wasn't. People pay to bathe in mud, we had it for free. That’s what we told ourselves anyway. We would sometimes go past the river and play in this cabin-thing that was owned by some guy but he didn't use it.
We would go under barbed wire fences to get there and we’d play spies. If her family wasn't home for some reason, I remember we would end up walking throughout her house singing and dancing pretending to be undercover agents. During the time when the missionary couple was in the States we would go up to their little house and we would play there. We would first check on their cats, and then we would start our game. Many times we would eat the food there or make juice. We once attempted to make a smoothie, it wasn't the best but it wasn't undrinkable either. Once she moved to Botijas we had to find other places to play, as all the above places were in San Francisco. We would play in the cabin on their property or in the guayaba (guava) trees, also on their property. We would play in her house too, but not as often as there were people usually there. We’d sometimes play in the sugarcane as well. We mainly walked up the hill and further on into the middle of nowhere and we would just run around killing imaginary bad guys. We found a river once but we didn't go there very much since it was farther away. We sometimes went under barbed wire fences to get to a place we called the Three Pines, as three Pine trees were on the top of the hill. We had to stop going there because the owner realized we were on his property and didn't like it. We once got lost by walking in the woods, but we eventually came out at the dirt road. One time we had the brilliant idea of sun bathing at the top of a hill. We had to go high enough where people passing couldn't see us, but I do remember someone seeing us and that was embarrassing. We weren't in bathing suits, thank goodness, we were in shorts and t-shirts but it was still embarrassing.
We once walked down a dirt road with my sisters and one of her brothers and we came across this abandoned house, so we decided to check it out. We ended up trying to get into the house but it was locked. We walked around the whole house looking for a way in; as my friend said the owner wasn't living there anymore. The house, I should mention, was a whole story above ground, the bottom part was for cattle and then there was a staircase leading to the door of the house. So we walked around the house, on a ledge, looking for a window open. We found an open window and sent her brother in. I remember we also got the door open, but the place where the window was open and the place where the door was open wasn't connected or something weird like that. We explored the house but I think we scared ourselves into thinking someone was going to see us in this house that wasn't ours, so we left.
We never went back to that house or did anything like that again. Another crazy thing we did with my sisters and her brother was walking up the hill by her house as ‘crazy bandits.’ We dressed up weirdly and held fake weapons pretending to be stupid criminals. We were a family, with my best friend as the oldest (even though I was older, she was way taller), her brother and I were twins (apparently we were the same height and acted crazy when together), and my sisters were either twins or they were just the younger siblings. We laughed so hard that day, walking up that hill yelling silly things and ‘shooting’ stuff. It was a lot of fun.
Me and her in Botijas!

There were many things that we did together, her and I. There are many details and stories that I failed to mention, mainly because there are too many. I knew her for almost all the time I have lived in Honduras, so we had many memories. I had so much fun playing spies with her. I loved her then and I love her now. She’s my best friend. Although she moved back to the States, we still have those crazy memories to look back upon. I miss her and the times we had but at least I can remember and enjoy those memories instead of being caged up by sadness. Because there are many stories with her, she just may appear in a future post. Since this is part one, it means by other best friends have their stories as well!

Goodbye, until next time!

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Our Honduran Pets

When we lived in the States we never had a pet of any kind. I remember always wanting a dog, but we never bought one. I had friends who had animals but we never had any. It wasn't until Honduras when we had pets. We had many different types of pets, ranging from dogs to chickens.
                We first moved to Yamaranguila where the owners of the complex we lived on had two horses and a dog. The horses’ names were Blanca and Chino (White and Chinese), Blanca was white, big surprise. She was wilder than Chino, he was brown and we rode him a couple of times, we never rode Blanca though. The dog’s name was Flipper; he was a mutt of some kind, white with a brown spot around his eye and both his ears.
We then moved to Zambrano, leaving behind the animals we knew in Yamaranguila. Once in Zambrano, we were given our first dog, she was a puppy from our first friends in Zambrano. We named her Patita, “little paws.” She was very small, I think she was the runt of the litter; nonetheless we loved our little puppy. We only had her for a couple months and she started getting sick. One day we came back from church and she was dead, sleeping in her box home. We guessed she ate some garbage near our house and caught a parasite. We had tried giving her medicine for parasites but it hadn't worked. We cried and then my dad buried her in our back yard. During the time we had Patita, my dad bought around ten chickens from a farmer missionary friend, along with a rooster.
After Patita died we still had the chickens to lay eggs and later on for eating. We hated having
These aren't the chickens we had, but they are similar.
chickens, they were such disgusting creatures. We had chickens for most of the time we lived in Zambrano, we ate several of them along the way. My mom told my dad that she would not cook it or eat it if the chicken did not look like it does when she buys it from the grocery store. Every chicken that came in to be eaten looked just like it was store bought. Us three girls would help my dad kill the chickens and get them ready for mom, she would never watch. My dad would place the chicken’s head under a stick that was lying on the ground; he would then step on either side of the stick and take the chicken’s feet and pull upwards. This was the grossest part, as the head came off and the chicken would still somersault and move even when it was dead. The chickens that were alive were cannibals; they started pecking the dead chicken. It was absolutely disgusting. After the chickens were somewhat done eating their friend my dad would take out its insides. My dad would finally take the dead chicken and put it in boiling water for a second to allow the feathers to get wet so we could pull them off. It was finally put into a bag and brought inside to be frozen until my mom was going to cook it. I hated those chickens.
While we had chickens, my best friend had baby bunnies and gave two to me. They were so cute! I forgot what I had named them since I only had them for a little while. I let them out of their cage each day to eat the grass and there was a chain-link fence that goes into my neighbor’s yard that they could fit through. One day I went to put them back into their cage and I saw one of them over the fence, so I went to get him, I never found my other one. I cried for my little bunny had run away. I still let my other bunny out to eat the grass and as I went to find him, yet again over the fence, I only found his bottom half. The stupid cat from the neighborhood had eaten my bunny! I cried and even tried throwing rocks at the cat for killing my bunny. I then figured that the cat also ate my first bunny.
Angel
After my bunnies and still during the time we had chickens, a missionary gave us her dog. She was moving back to the States and couldn't take her dog, Angel, so she gave her to us. We loved Angel and we had her in Zambrano up to Santa Lucia, about four or five years.
While we had Angel my best friend gave me another bunny, this time full grown, named Snowball. I loved my fat bunny, plus he couldn't fit through the fence so I could let him out without worrying that he’d be eaten. I had him for almost a year, but he was getting old. Angel would chase Snowball all around the yard, playing with him. But as Snowball was getting older, he suddenly started biting Angel and Angel would bite him back. I was scared that Angel would kill Snowball! I was shocked that my bunny would bite my dog. Later on I realized he just wanted to die in peace, as he was old, but Angel wouldn't let him. We tied Angel up every time I let Snowball out so he wouldn't get hurt. One day I came to feed him and he had peacefully died in his sleep, I still cried and my dad buried him in the yard along with Patita.
We eventually ate or sold all our remaining chickens and the only pet we owned was Angel. When we moved to Santa Lucia we just had Angel. We tried once to have another dog with Angel.
Ginger
We got a Boxer puppy named Ginger but she was too much for our family and for Angel. So we gave her back to the family who gave her to us. This year though, Angel passed away. She had had a tumor on her stomach so we took her to the vet to have an operation. After the operation, she was never the same. She was slower, she could barely see, she was eating but not too much, and she seemed to be in pain. We took her to the vet again and he tried giving her medicine but she still didn't recover. Finally we decided that it was time to put her to sleep, she was in so much pain. My dad and I took her to the vet one afternoon and asked him to put her to sleep. The vet agreed with our decision, when he touched her to check where the tumor was, she yelped. He could barely touch her without her crying out in pain. It was hard to listen to, I cried. Soon it was quiet, our beloved Angel was gone. The vet came out and told us it was for the best, she was in so much pain it would have hurt her more to live any longer. We came home and buried her in the back yard, we all cried. We had Angel for four or five years and she was gone. A couple months later a friend said she had a Golden Retriever that she couldn't keep and was wondering if we could take her. We took her in, she was named Lady and we loved her. We still have Lady and we’ll probably have her for a long time to come.
In Honduras we've had several different types of pets. It’s harder to take care of animals in Honduras, there’s trash everywhere and going to a vet is not common or it’s really expensive. Even though we've had many pets, we tried our best to take care of them. Some of the deaths we couldn't prevent. I loved all of the pets we owned, except those stupid chickens!

Goodbye, until next time! 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

My First Missions Trip

                I can still remember the first time I came to Honduras, it was in 2006. I went with my mom, dad, and my sister. The youngest two, my sister and brother, were left in Connecticut with some really close friends. We would only stay a week, but that one week would impact our lives.
               
This was the first time I flew in an airplane; at least that I could remember. I apparently flew in an airplane when I was two, but that doesn't count. We flew from Boston to Miami to Tegucigalpa. It took about a total of six hours. We were traveling with a missions team from my Grandpa’s church, him and my grandma came too. When we landed we got into a big bus and drove from Tegucigalpa to Danli, which was about two hours. It was so much fun on the bus because there weren't any seatbelts and my sister and I could walk back and forth. I remember there were some ladies who were scared of the sides of the mountains as we drove past as the road would have no railings so if you drove to the side too much, you would fall off the mountain. We stayed in a hotel called Grande Hotel Granada, or something like that, in room 133.
                We went everyday to Eternity’s Call Church in Danli, it was where we were working. The first thing we did was paint the church and we did some outdoor construction. My sister and I mainly played with the kids though; we shared our gringo toys with the Honduran children. One day my dad had a teacher conference for the Hondurans but since he couldn't speak Spanish he had a translator. During that day my sister and I either stayed at the hotel or we went to the church and played with the kids, I don’t really remember. Another day we had a medical brigade, my sister and I talked with the kids and helped the adults with whatever they needed. During the medical brigade, we were also able to preach the gospel. One of the men on the team brought bubbles and was playing with the kids outside. During the medical brigade I was moving the metal fan in the front of the church as it was super hot, my mom told me to stop touching the fan, but I had to touch it one more time. That time, my middle finger slipped inside and the fan cut my finger. That was the one bad thing about that day. The next day we had a VBS (Vacation Bible School), we had music, games, a puppet show, and crafts for the kids. We had a blast. Another day we helped put barbed wire around the new garden, we helped build the stage, and we shoveled dirt to fill holes. One of my favorite parts of the trip was learning and then playing Honduran hand games, they were so much fun. The girls were really nice to us, even if we didn't know what they were saying!

                The hardest part about the trip was going to the Danli garbage dump. We went to the dump because people lived there. There were houses lined up along the dirt road and then the garbage was dumped at the top of the hill. It smelled terrible, there were donkeys and vultures in the garbage, there were even people in the garbage looking for something worth something to possibly sell. We handed out toys and candy for the kids, we gave the gospel message, and we prayed with people. There were donkeys on the road used to carry wood. The houses were made out of miscellaneous items or basically whatever the people found. One house was made out of crates, the ones used to carry or hold sodas. The only cool part of that day was riding in the bed of a truck as there are neither seatbelt laws nor laws against riding in the bed. One day we went to the cigar factory to see how it worked, it was stuffy and smelled like tobacco, but it was interesting. We also went to the Danli market one day which was cool to see. Then on the last day we went to a special restaurant with the pastor of the church we were helping out. It was a fun time and the food was really good. Then we had to drive back to the airport to catch our plane back home. We got some fast food from across the street, we had only had Honduran food the whole time, it was great food but we missed “American” food.
                That trip was a blast, I was happy to come home though. Little did I know that my parents were thinking of making a permanent move to Honduras. In January of 2008, we moved to Honduras. We flew into Tegucigalpa and both my sister and I were showing our other siblings what we saw the first time we arrived in this country. That missions trip was much bigger than I could have ever imagined, it meant my home in the States would change and Honduras would be my home. As a nine or ten year old, I never would have thought of a missions trip leading to a life changing event. What would have happened had we never went on that missions trip?  

Goodbye, until next time! 



Saturday, October 11, 2014

Honduran Food

Honduran food is not Spanish food. It isn't Mexican food. It’s Honduran food. There’s no other way to describe it, it’s just Honduran. It’s deliciously perfect and I love it. The food happens to be one of Honduras’ high points, one of its best features. I can’t remember the first time I tried Honduran food, all I know was that it was in Danlí and it was some kind of meat with ensalada (salad) on the side or rice and banana soda or something like that. I also remember that it was very good.
               
One of my favorite Honduran foods now is Pupusas, corn tortilla mix with a small circle of cheese pressed in the middle, then flattened to look like a tortilla and then it is fried on the open stove. It is pure deliciousness. There are pupusas with meat in it too, but the cheese ones are the best. I also found out that pupusas are originally from El Salvador but nonetheless, they are made in Honduras and they are very good. They are also served with three types of ensaladas or toppings, I’m not positive what is in them, I do know one has cabbage and another has onions. Either way they are good to put on top of the pupusa but pupusas are just as good plain.
                One Honduran classic is Baleadas, flour tortilla with beans, cheese, and sour cream. You can also have eggs, chorizo (sausage), avocado, chile (hot sauce), or fried plantains. I like the simple one the best but adding other ingredients is also quite good. I have not met a Honduran who does not love Baleadas, they’re just that good and easy to make. The best Baleadas are when the flour tortillas are homemade rather than store bought.

                Another Honduran food is mango verde, which is green mango. This is something I love but my dad hates, I can’t see why. It is green mango, a specific type of mango that stays small and turns yellow eventually but it is better when it is green. You have the green mango and you put vinegar, especias (mixed spices including salt, pepper, and many others), and salsa negra (Worchester sauce) on the mango and you eat it like that. Some put lemon, chile (hot sauce), or even chicken bouillon cubes, but I like the other three things only. It does not sound healthy and it probably isn't in any way but it is very easy to make and it is very tasty.

               
I could go on and on describing more Honduran foods, but it’s making me hungry so I must stop! Honduran food is very good and I haven’t met someone who hasn't liked it. Whoever doesn't like Honduran food is crazy. Next time you think Honduran food is Mexican or Spanish, think again, it is distinct and unique. Even though Central American countries share some foods, each country has a twist to the way it is prepared. I love Honduras; one of the reasons why I do is because of the food!

Saturday, October 4, 2014

The Perfect Future

                It’s funny how when you’re little you think you have all your life planned out and perfect. I know when I was little, like five or six years old, I knew exactly what I would be and what I would do when I ‘grew up’. I said that when I became a teenager I would be a famous singer and I would stay a singer until my twenties, then I would get married and have kids and thus stop being a singer. It was a perfect plan. I thought this all the way until I was ten. Then we moved and I realized that my perfect plan was going to have to change.
               
Now I realize that being a famous singer is a whole lot of work and determination, it isn't purely talent. I realize that I have to meet the man who’ll be my husband, he doesn't grow on a tree (I didn't think that when I was younger, don’t worry!), and I may or may not have kids right away after I’m marry. I realized that perfect plans aren't always so perfect. In my mind, my future was set and planned and perfect but it wasn't my actual future. God had my real future planned out. He knew I would move to another country and He would then plan every day for me, so I wouldn't have to worry. He knows where I’m going to go for college and who I’ll marry and what job I’ll get. He has the ultimate perfect plan.
                I think every person hates to not know what is going on or to not know what is planned. It’s hard sometimes to think of someone else planning everything for me and knowing everything that will happen. I don’t like to not have control and to not be able to plan. Yet I must give it up. God knows what is best for me, whether I know it or not at the time of an event that I like or dislike. So when I think of Him having an ultimate perfect plan for me, I get scared that it isn't what I want. Am I serious? Am I actually going to question His perfect plan for me? I shouldn't and I try not to but sometimes I wonder what my future will be and what is going to happen. If this boy doesn't like me now, is there someone better? Can there be someone better for me than him? If I don’t get accepted to this college will I choose the second one? What if I don’t get accepted to any? How am I going to leave my family? How am I going to afford visiting them? These are just some general questions that I may ask myself, wondering if this perfect plan of His is really perfect. It sounds silly to question the God of all Creation, but I’m curious and a little scared of the unknown. I think most of us are and we shouldn't be. He’s God. He obviously knows what is best and therefore won’t ‘mess up,’ I mean, he formed us and knew us before our own mothers did.
                I tend to take things into my own hands, trying to rule my future, and then I mess something up. I should just let God take control and hand it all to Him. I really hate when I don’t. I end up sad and disappointed when I try to do things my way. Why can’t I just let Him do it? He’s offering to take the worry about tomorrow away, so why do I want to keep it? I honestly don’t know why, I don’t have the answer. I just want to know what’s going to happen and I want to know that all those above questions, for example, will have set answers.  But I don’t know and I may never know. But, although it sounds cheesy, don’t worry.  I may not have my whole life figured out, but Someone does. I should feel safe knowing that and only that. Even if it’s hard to let Him take care of my future I must stop trying to control it, it doesn't work. I've probably said this a hundred times, but God I’m handing you the control. And you know, I’ll probably say this another hundred times, but it’s okay, God will always be there waiting for me to say it.

                Goodbye, until next time!

Saturday, September 27, 2014

The Hardest Part of Being an MK

I think the hardest part of being an MK is not fitting in. It is hard not to fit in in general but when you’re an MK you can’t even try to fit in it seems. Already I don’t fit in in the country I am currently living in: Honduras. I’m white, I have blue eyes and blondish hair, and I act “gringa.” I can’t fit in; I’m constantly stared at because I’m different. I’m constantly singled out because I walk differently than any Honduran. There is no chance of me fitting in here! I don’t fit in in the country I was born: the United States. I may look like an American but I think differently now, I act a tiny bit ‘off’ compared to the average American teenager. I dress differently; when I walk around and see girls wearing make-up all the time to look 17 when the kids are like 10 or I see girls wearing shorts that are so short they’re now underwear or shirts that are basically bras, I definitely don’t fit in. I go back to my native country and people are constantly on their phones, barely looking up, I don’t fit in. I may look like them but I’m way different. At my school I don’t fit in, I’m one of the ones who doesn’t party and get drunk on the weekends, I go to church on Sundays, I’m not going to have sex until I’m married, I’m not a total oddball and my friends love me (at least I hope so). School is one of the places where I fit in the most though, I don’t have to pretend to be someone else, they don’t care that I’m from the USA and they accept me and my beliefs. But still some days, when a person will come over to invite two of my closest friends and my best friend to a party and look right over me, knowing I’ll say no and be ‘no fun,’ it kind of hurts to not fit in. I think the hardest one is when I don’t fit in even with other MKs. This one hurts the most because here are people like me, experiencing similar things and even then I don’t fit in. We went to a missionary retreat that occurs every year and I was so happy to see some of the friends I made the year before, when I arrived there were some new MKs and I was excited to meet some new people. However, that’s not what happened, the new people all knew each other and had inside jokes and didn’t include me or my sister. I’m shy but I pushed myself to go and ask to play cards with them and when we started it wasn’t too fun because there were too many people so it trickled to a stop. When they stopped, they started telling stories they all knew and I hated being the outsider so I got up and left. I didn’t like not fitting in so I went to find someone else to hang out with. I was
very disappointed as I thought this retreat was going to be fun and I was going to spend my time with the cool MKs I met the year before, but that didn't happen. I hated that time, I’m used to not fitting in in Honduras, in the States, and sometimes at school, but this was the first time I didn’t fit in with other MKs. I love being an MK and wouldn't trade it for the world, but a challenge of being an MK is not fitting in. I thank God for giving me the strength to deal with this challenge and I thank Him for being there with me through it all.

Goodbye, until next time!

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Thankful for Friends

This morning as I spent my daily time with God, I found myself thanking him for all of the wonderful friends that he has placed in my life. When I usually pray, I’ll ask for some things and thank him for some things. I want to make sure I’m thanking Him just as much as I’m asking things of Him. But today I thanked Him for the friends that are physically still in Honduras and then for those that have moved away. I don’t usually thank Him for all the friends he’s placed in my life. I usually thank Him for the friends that have stayed in Honduras, not the friends that have moved away too. I just noticed that I was actually happy to have so many great friends, whether they are still in country or far away. It was nice to be happy and thankful about this.
I had always complained about friends leaving me. I had always cried out to God asking Him how He could have them get close to me and then move away. I hate goodbyes and saying goodbye to the closest of friends is quite difficult. I've had seven of my closest friends move away. I could also count the day I moved to Honduras and left my closest friend behind as number eight but I think it’s harder for the people left behind than the people who leave. It’s so much more painful when you have to stay as the people you love leave, and so that’s why I say seven. But, back to the point, I would ask God over and over again why He would let those people leave. I never understood why He let them go. I definitely cried over several of these people’s departures, not sure when I would see them again or even if I would see them again. That kind of realization hurts. What person would want someone you love to leave without any certainty of meeting them again? So I repeatedly wondered why God would allow this to happen to me, especially when I so desperately wanted and needed close friends.
I feel really foolish for this constant wondering why these people left, mainly because all of these people are still in my life and I am still in contact with them. I also feel foolish because I was so hooked on focusing on the people leaving that I missed the people that have stayed or the new friends I have made as the others moved away. I was sad that my closest friends left so I didn't see all the amazing friends I currently have in Honduras nor the fact that I’m still in contact with the people who've left. I’m not speaking to all seven every day nor every month but I’ll say hello and ask questions about how they’re doing every once and a while. I speak to some more than others but it isn't mandatory to talk to them every moment of every day. I’ll see pictures and statuses about their lives and I’m happy that I get to see that. I've seen most of them after they left and there isn't any awkwardness, everything is great. For some, I’m not as close to them as I was when they still lived in Honduras but the ones that I consider best friends, I’m still close to.
I can’t believe I questioned God’s plan. I mean people do it all the time; we question everything God is doing as if He’s against us. Which, when it’s phrased like that, sounds silly. I question things that God is doing instead of just laying back and allowing Him to take charge and then follow His lead. And when I say I’m letting Him take control, I tend to hold on a bit to the thing I say I’m letting go of. Why? I guess it’s just hard to think of someone taking full control and to trust that person wholeheartedly. But He isn't just someone, He is the Someone. So no matter how many people move away, whether I stay close to them or not, I shouldn't question His planning. Instead I should be thankful for all the people who are here in Honduras with me and then be thankful for all the friends who have moved away and who've still stayed friends with me. Yes it’s sad to have people move but that shouldn't be the reason why I don’t trust that He has it all worked out. There shouldn't be any reason why I wouldn't trust Him. I should just trust Him. He made me, loves me, takes care of me, planned my life for me, and watches over me. I love Him and want to follow Him to the best of my ability, wholeheartedly. Love and trust go hand in hand, so if I love Him then I must trust Him too. So from this day forward I will trust God with anything and everything that comes my way. It’ll be hard but nonetheless I will try my best to trust Him in all that I do.

Goodbye, until next time!

Saturday, September 13, 2014

The West Coast Adventure

I went to the West Coast for the first and only (at least for now) time in the summer of 2012. I woke up at around 4 a.m. with my sister and parents and we drove to the Connecticut Bradley International Airport. That day was the first time I would fly without adult supervision. It would just be my sister and I. I was in charge of getting her and myself all the way to San Francisco, California. I went thinking that an adult would assist us along the way, but because I was 15, I was too old to attain assistance even if my sister was only 13. So we set off for the beginning of an adventure. We flew to the Chicago airport where we changed planes to arrive in the San Francisco airport where we would be picked up by strangers who were our host family for our week in California.
The whole reason we were flying to California was for an international choir competition called the Golden Gate International Children’s Choral Festival. We were the first Latin American country asked to this competition, the first time a Honduran choir was asked to an international competition, and the first time our Discovery Choir was asked to something this big. It was a huge deal for us as a choir; it was also an amazing opportunity. It would be a week-long competition where our choir would compete against several other countries’ choirs and where our soloists would also compete against other countries’ soloists. After the competitions, all the choirs would sing a couple songs as one whole choir, all 300 kids or so, at the Zellerbach Hall. The three best choirs would then perform that night along with the three best soloists. It was an extraordinary experience.
My sister and I arrive in San Francisco and are picked up by a couple who will be our host family. They were really nice; they took us on a little tour of San Francisco, showing us several amazing spots in the city, we then went to Berkeley where the competition would actually be taking place and where the couple lived. In Berkeley, they also gave a mini tour of the town; it was a nice entry into California. We spent the night there and the next day we went to meet the rest of our choir (since they flew directly from Honduras) and then went to the buildings where we would spend most of time preparing and competing. That night we had one of our choir members join us at our host house, he stayed for the night and then went to stay with his mom. That day we asked if we could also leave because we felt uncomfortable at out host’s house, they were really nice it was just odd. We were then moved to be with one of my closest friends and her mom and sisters. We remained with them for the rest of the time we spent in San Francisco. My sister and I had a blast with them, we went shopping in San Francisco, we stayed up until 10 spitting milk and getting ice cream wasted, laughing until our sides hurt, we drove packed into a small car to and from the place we stayed to the buildings where we competed. I had a blast that week!
Our choir sang and competed using typical Honduran songs, dresses, and even a dance. It was a lot of fun. We ended up with a bronze placing in two categories at the festival. For our first international competition it was an amazing accomplishment. I happened to represent Discovery as a soloist along with two other close friends. I sang Ave Maria by Franz Schubert in Latin and Luna Llena by Guillermo Anderson in Spanish and bit in Garifuna. I won a bronze placing which was absolutely incredible; one of the judges came to me afterwards telling me how much she liked Luna Llena, which happened to be my favorite song to sing. I was very happy and proud. I was the only one from Discovery to place in the soloists. I was shocked since I thought my friends were really good and even better than I was. They did great and I’m proud of them, they didn't have to place to prove how well they sang. The ending concert was amazing, we sang 4 or 5 songs with all of the choirs together and it was so much fun.
Besides singing we also went on a cruise in the San Francisco Bay with all the choirs, we got to meet a lot of people from around the world, which was so cool. It was freezing on that boat! I was with my friends on the deck where the cold wind was blowing hard on us. We went around Alcatraz and under the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a really cool experience. We also were able to bond closer together as a choir and I was able to get closer to my close friend who we were staying with. We were able to talk with the other choirs on breaks and were able to meet some pretty amazing musicians. After the final concert, there was a dance, where we spent a fair amount of time dancing all together and talking and just having a great time. That night though, my friend was flying out to Los Angeles and so my sister and I stayed with another choir family until the next day where we flew back to Connecticut, the same way we came, stopping in Chicago. I was happy to be somewhat home with the rest of my family. We finished the rest of our vacation in the USA and then flew back to Honduras, this time all together.
I will never forget San Francisco, it was an amazing trip. I liked experiencing how it was to fly alone and to be so far from family, maybe it will help when I go off to college. I liked spending a week in California without my parents but I was relieved when I was safe under my parents’ wings. I had an amazing
experience, which I've probably said a thousand times, but it’s true, I truly did have an awesome experience and I’ll never forget it. I’m proud of myself and my friends. I’m proud of the choir and my school. I’m proud of Honduras and who we represented. I am very lucky to have had this opportunity. I thank God for allowing little me to place among 100 other contestants, and for allowing me to even fly to San Francisco in the first place. I thank God for keeping my sister and me safe along with the rest of our choir. I thank God for such a wonderful competition that he allowed us to participate in. It was awesome!

Goodbye, until next time! 

Saturday, September 6, 2014

A Letter to my Future Husband

Dear handsome, amazing, tender man,

Whoever you are, I love you. I don’t know you yet and I’m pretty sure you don’t know me but I love you all the same. Since I was little I knew I would get married and have children. I always wanted my husband to be like my dad. I know it sounds weird but if you knew my dad you’d know why I’d like my future husband to be like him. I’m not saying I want to marry my dad, I just know that there are certain traits you must have for me to say “I do.”
My dad is kind, caring, loving, strong (emotionally and physically), great with kids, funny, passionate, dedicated, responsible, liable, trustworthy. He’s always there, he’s a great human example of God, he never hurt me, he taught me wrong from right, he loves my mom, he cares for her, he loves my sisters, he cares for them, and he loves my brother and cares for him. I know you’re thinking I’m just writing this to brag about my dad, I’m not. I just want you to know that when I meet you, I’ll be looking for these things. I don’t want you to be an exact version of my dad I’d just like a lot of these traits. I want you to know that I want to make the right decision in choosing my future spouse, and I’m scared of making a mistake. I want to love and be loved by you. I’m waiting for you, sexually speaking. I’m not having sex until I get married to you. I don’t want any other man to have me in that respect, so I’m saving myself for you. I’d like for you to do the same, but if this is not the case when we meet, there’s always forgiveness. I pray that you’ll do the same as me as I’m waiting for you. I want to have a future with you. I want to have a family, to travel, whether with kids or not, to live a good long life by your side. I want to have an open, honest relationship. I want you to be my best friend. I want to learn everything about you and every day learn something new about the wonderful man God ‘allowed’ me to marry. I want to grow together in Christ, to become a strong couple of God, and to raise our kids in a stable, Christian home. I want to be happy. I want to wake up each morning and see you beside me and thank God that I have such an amazing husband. I don’t want this to be a soppy love letter. I’m just writing to let you know how much I care about you before we even meet.
I promise now to support you through whatever comes [y]our way. I promise to love you through the good and the bad. I promise to be loyal to you, to love only you. Until death do us part, I’ll love you even afterwards. I love you Mr. insert-my-future-husband’s-name-here. I can’t wait to meet you.

Love your gorgeous, amazing, loving, future wife (I hope you think I’m just as amazing as I think you are).


Goodbye, until next time!