Nadie Te Ama Como Yo...

(No one loves you like I)...Before I left, everyone joked about how I was going to come to El Salvador and fall in love with some Latin man...I scoffed and said it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. And then it happened.
His name is Carlos Alexander and he's eight years old. In all seriousness, as I write about the experience I had this weekend, I realize this blog might be more of a personal journey entry, but it’s how I'm feeling right now.
This past weekend I was invited by Walter (who is a volunteer from Hogar para Ninos and friend) to help facilitate in a 3 day spiritual retreat (or equipo as its called) for the teenagers. For three full days I lived at the orphanage. We all slept in the same building, ate together and prayed together. I cannot put into words how powerful this experience was for me. Walter organized this entire event and had some of his fellow church group friends facilitate most of the weekend. We talked openly about spirituality, sexuality, relationships, friendships and ambitions for life. We prayed traditionally, we sang prayers, we prayed in silence. For my TUS alums, it was similar to our peer ministry/senior retreats. Some highlights included a bonfire that we created and burned papers that held our sins, a blindfolded walk over stones to represent having to go through tough times before finding peace and the celebration of mass together where we all received blessed crosses. In our down time, we sat around talking, playing, bonding. Incidentally, Walter and I happened to show up on Friday morning dressed identically, completely unplanned so the kids had a field day with that calling us "Mickey and Minnie" for the entire weekend.

Saturday night at the retreat the theme was "family". We all sat in a circle on the floor, in darkness with the exception of one lit candle in the center. A facilitator told her story of her broken childhood. She then played one of the most heart-wrenching and beautiful songs I've ever heard about losing loved ones. And their eyes began to flow tears like I've never seen before. I sat there in the darkness simply holding these children. In one arm a 14 year old who I've always known as "Mr. Cool, calm and collected" sobbed and in the other arm, a 12 year old who was forced away from abusive parents as a kid held onto me crying into my sweater. All I could think was "I wish I had arms large enough to just hold all of them". We then listened to another song entitled" Nadie te ama como Yo" about how God's love for us is so beyond our understanding. And I found clarity.

I sat there holding, hugging, comforting and found a peace that I've never felt before in my life. I felt this peace that I am in the right place that this is what I can do. This is my gift. I've always felt that I have so much love inside of me to give, but no place for it go and now here I am in this place where it is so needed. Perhaps I sound egotistical. Their stories are all so sad, and while they are so well taken care of in physical sense at the Hogar, they are not nurtured emotionally.

After the kids went to sleep (at 1am) Walter and I sat up talking until 3 in the morning about that night. I talked about how powerful it had been and how strongly I loved these kids. He gave me what might be the most incredible compliment I've ever received from anyone in my life. I was talking about how hard it is for me because I can't communicate with words what I want to say so often. And he said "You don't need to, you speak with your heart, we all understand perfectly". He then shared with me a poem he wrote for me about the simpleness of my hands that he sees at work there. It was so moving. We both were sitting there crying like fools, exhausted, unable to express exactly what we wanted to say because of the language barrier and at the same time completely able to understand each other's feelings about our experiences with the kids. We made a promise that if I didn't find whatever it was I looking for in the US, I would come back. As long as I live the images from that night will be in my mind, but moreover the feeling of so blessed that God gave me the gifts, this heart and these opportunities, is something I will do everything in my power to hold onto.

While he was not on the retreat, Carlos and I did have the opportunity to spend time together this weekend. In a moment while we were playing he accidentally called me "mom". My heart broke and at the same time, was so filled with this unconditional love.

I realize this all sounds rather corny or perhaps egotistical. Perhaps it is, but I can't put into words how happy and filled I feel- it is in moments like sitting around with my girls talking about if I wear a thong in the United States, or when Bryan and I, at 7 am on a Sunday were playing ping-pong, or when Carlos runs to hold my hand (so we could go to communion together). They have all become so special to me, I've gotten to know them and they have gotten to know me. I don't know how I'm going to leave.

Hogar translates from the spanish to "home". Home is a place of comfort, happiness and peace. My heart has found home.

Link to some amazing photos:http://picasaweb.google.com/VictoriaLHertlein/EquipoHogarParaNinos#