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Dear Friends,

Hello from Chicago! I am doing well here in Chicago. I get enough to eat, and for the most part, I'm staying warm. I miss all of you (and Mexican food) and look forward to seeing many of you when I come home for Christmas (I bought my plane tickets yesterday. I'll be in Texas from Dec. 20 thru Jan. 4!) I don't want to jinx myself, but I've actually felt pretty safe here working in the Cabrini Green housing project. I've gotten to know some really neat people since I've been here, including one special little boy that I've learned a few things from.

I’d like to tell you about my friend, Vernon. Vernon is five, the youngest in his family. His older sister, Marquita, is in third grade and comes to the Hope Alive after school program that I work with. I met Vernon, Marquita, and their cousin Valerie on my first day at Holy Family, when my LVC predecessor Angie and I took them to the library. On the way back, Vernon was dragging way behind the others, so I ended up holding his hand and pulling him along back to church.

When asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, Vernon said Deon, his 13-year-old brother. There is something about Vernon that makes me think of the runt of the litter. He’s a little scrawny for his age, especially when compared with his two partners in crime, Antwon and Terreon, whom everybody calls Mister. He has big eyes and high cheekbones, and last week he got a haircut. His skin is the color of hot chocolate, and his teeth indicate that he probably hasn’t had enough milk to drink in his short lifetime. Vernon has some sort of speech impediment that makes it difficult to understand what he’s saying, although his compadres never seem to have a problem. Vernon only goes to morning kindergarten, so in the afternoons I’ll see him wandering around outside in his uniform (navy pants and white shirt). One day my coworker Stan and I chased him down to suggest that maybe jumping in puddles in his school clothes wasn’t a good idea. He’s a year too young to come to the after school program, but he frequently will drop by and watch the action until he is reminded that he is too young to be there and asked to leave. Most days that he comes to visit (and gets kicked out) he’ll drop by again 20 minutes later. Mister and Antwon are old enough for the program, as are many of Vernon’s cousins and neighborhood friends.

Two weeks ago we had a Halloween party for the after school program. All of our kids showed up, in addition to some younger siblings and random kids that I’d never seen before (they must have heard about the free candy). We had bobbing for apples, a semi-haunted house (I heard a seventh-grade boy say later that I scared him pretty good :) ) and “Pin the Wart on the Witch,” which was my contribution to the festivities. I had a picture of a witch made out of construction paper tacked to the wall. Each kid was given a “wart” (a black circle of construction paper), blindfolded, spun around five times, then directed toward the witch. Some kids got amazingly close, while others were nowhere the target (her nose). While the kids were eating their hot dogs (this IS Chicago), I passed out prizes to the five kids who got closest. Then, because I had seven lollipops for prizes, I gave out the remaining two to the two kids who got furthest away–I think it takes some talent to get that far away from the target. Vernon was one of the winners (for being far away), and when I called his name a huge grin stretched across his face. His seat was way back in the room, so it took a few moments for him to squeeze his way to the front. While we were waiting, someone in the crowd started chanting his name. In half a second everyone joined in and the room resounded with "Ver-non, Ver-non, Ver-non." I hope that I’ll always remember the look on Vernon’s face as he wiggled up to the front. You could tell that he was all lit up inside and really felt that he had a place within this group, that even though he was younger and usually just tagged along the others, he belonged.

I think that’s why I’m here, in Chicago, working at Holy Family. I think that over the weeks I’ve been frustrated: watching the bus drive by when I’m a block and a half away from the stop, being away from all my friends and family, always eating cereal for breakfast, PB&J for lunch, and some funky vegetarian meal for dinner, and not getting to do as much creative and fun stuff with the kids as I would like. I came here to improve kids’ lives, to give them a brighter outlook on the world, and let them know that they are loved. But it often seems that I’m not making any difference. That my only accomplishment in a day is making sure that nobody’s eyes have been poked out by a pencil, and the little kids have correct answers on their math homework. One day I came across a Bible verse that quieted the frustration inside me. Galatians 6:9 says “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time, we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” I think in the future I’ll have to recall that verse and focus on the small victories–that Alexius understands even and odd numbers, that Briana got a 100 on her spelling test, that Michael ran up to hug me today–and realize that these are pieces of a larger picture that I can’t see the whole design of right now. I just have to trust that I am making a positive impact. When I feel discouraged, I will remember Vernon, and the look on his face at the Halloween party, when a room full of people chanted HIS name, and how a party and a game that I helped create let a kid have a moment of glory to shine in front of his peers. Peace, my friends, Kristin