Just me and Johnny talkin'...
I've decided I want to be baptized. Ken asked me several months ago if it was something I was interested in, and for reasons I did not see then, I had no desire to do so. I told him I would pray about it and left it at that. I haven't thought about it since then, but on the first morning back as I was doing my quiet time I suddenly wanted to. I think if I had done it before it wouldn't have meant much to me, would have just been going through the motions. I would rather do it now, slightly delayed, but have it really represent all that changed in me in Belize. I'm really excited though.
I'm pretty sure if we had met, back in the day, John the Baptist and I would have been best friends. He was always my favorite. Just from the description of him in Matt --dressed in camal skin, eating only locusts and honey, and living in the desert all alone--I picture my free-spirited, hippie friend Johnny with crazy outgrown blong dread-like hair who bathes in the river every now and again and maybe makes sand sculptures in his free time. Yeah, I like him.
I'm taking creative writing now. I love the kids in there. There's a boy Michael from New York, and he's got to be the most insightful person I've met. He always shares his work and he's got a kind of free-style, spoken word thing going on. He's an amazing writer. I've probably passed this boy in the halls numerous times and would have never expected him to be so wise and tapped into the realities of life. He told us about the one moment in his lfe he would change if he had the chance and it was christmas when he was three or four years old. His mom, dirt poor, could only afford to get him one present that year--a hat. He hated it, and being just a little boy, told her so honestly after opening it. She burst into tears and he told us that it broke his heart. He said he wore that ugly hat for years and years after. Even after it was a little too small and his mom would laugh and tell him he didn't have to do that, he would wear it. He wanted desperatly to take back what he had done, even after his mom could care less, she knew he was just a little boy and forgave him so long ago. But he couldn't forgive himself and kept on wearing that hat. His dad finally made him throw it away because he said it only made him sad. You've got to see this boy--all tough and baggy on the outside--and still holding on to regrets about making his mom cry over a hat. I don't know...its just stayed with me. I want to get to know this kid.
In class we had to write a poem about the person sitting nearest to us, so I wrote this about Sara-Maria:
May your laughter always be so contagious as the day I met you
It splashed and cascaded
head thrown back
thick waves dancing
"psst" "who's that" "...new girl..." "...from China!"
In your walk was quiet confidance
a little shyness
in your smile
genuine
is an appreciation for every individual you come across
you identify in some way to each one
all the silences of hard eyes and closed minds can't shackle the joy you live
it rises before the dew settles, shines after moon
You love deeply
hurt easy, when feelings aren't matched half way
Eat sushi for breakfast, why not?
a sensitive mind, tongue
Now a pair of icy blues cover you
you want to shout it
blushing, giddy, a little girl
one full of disarming wisdom
and the only marching band drummer in tourquoise stillettos
Ken just randomly called me to see how I was doing, just as I was getting the phone to call him about baptism. So I get to do that Sunday night, with Bekah and Alice and Elly. Very cool!
I'm pretty sure if we had met, back in the day, John the Baptist and I would have been best friends. He was always my favorite. Just from the description of him in Matt --dressed in camal skin, eating only locusts and honey, and living in the desert all alone--I picture my free-spirited, hippie friend Johnny with crazy outgrown blong dread-like hair who bathes in the river every now and again and maybe makes sand sculptures in his free time. Yeah, I like him.
I'm taking creative writing now. I love the kids in there. There's a boy Michael from New York, and he's got to be the most insightful person I've met. He always shares his work and he's got a kind of free-style, spoken word thing going on. He's an amazing writer. I've probably passed this boy in the halls numerous times and would have never expected him to be so wise and tapped into the realities of life. He told us about the one moment in his lfe he would change if he had the chance and it was christmas when he was three or four years old. His mom, dirt poor, could only afford to get him one present that year--a hat. He hated it, and being just a little boy, told her so honestly after opening it. She burst into tears and he told us that it broke his heart. He said he wore that ugly hat for years and years after. Even after it was a little too small and his mom would laugh and tell him he didn't have to do that, he would wear it. He wanted desperatly to take back what he had done, even after his mom could care less, she knew he was just a little boy and forgave him so long ago. But he couldn't forgive himself and kept on wearing that hat. His dad finally made him throw it away because he said it only made him sad. You've got to see this boy--all tough and baggy on the outside--and still holding on to regrets about making his mom cry over a hat. I don't know...its just stayed with me. I want to get to know this kid.
In class we had to write a poem about the person sitting nearest to us, so I wrote this about Sara-Maria:
May your laughter always be so contagious as the day I met you
It splashed and cascaded
head thrown back
thick waves dancing
"psst" "who's that" "...new girl..." "...from China!"
In your walk was quiet confidance
a little shyness
in your smile
genuine
is an appreciation for every individual you come across
you identify in some way to each one
all the silences of hard eyes and closed minds can't shackle the joy you live
it rises before the dew settles, shines after moon
You love deeply
hurt easy, when feelings aren't matched half way
Eat sushi for breakfast, why not?
a sensitive mind, tongue
Now a pair of icy blues cover you
you want to shout it
blushing, giddy, a little girl
one full of disarming wisdom
and the only marching band drummer in tourquoise stillettos
Ken just randomly called me to see how I was doing, just as I was getting the phone to call him about baptism. So I get to do that Sunday night, with Bekah and Alice and Elly. Very cool!