Young Adult Resource People
1 Timothy 4:12 To submit a new request, or sign up for an upcoming event, please communicate directly with the YARP Coordinator, Heather Hansen.
This site was recently hacked. Although functionality was restored, regrettably all database content since Nov 2008 was lost. :( Fortunately we do have all event requests and evaluation submissions in email, so YARPS will continue to provide uninterrupted service to upcoming events. Unfortunately all service records have been lost. No attempt will be made to reconstruct historic information because this website will be replaced in the near future.
Sorry for the inconvenience, God bless!
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