camp noah - day two

it’s raining and has been all day. the water stands wherever it lands because there really isn’t any drainage. looking outside from the foyer of the church looks like you’re looking into a greenhouse – the outsides of the windows are all clouded over and misty from the rain, whenever i walk by one on my way into the building i write my name in the haze.

my group of 4, 5, and 6 graders went from a group of four yesterday morning to six yesterday afternoon and then to sixteen today. i’m the sole leader responsible for these kids and i have two helpers to help me stay sane. i need them like you have no idea.

i’m hoarse from talking loudly, have a headache from yelling at the boys to stop wrestling, and melted from all the girls who keep walking up to give me hugs and say “hi mister tom.”

we took the children to the lake charles children’s museum this afternoon for a pizza party and an afternoon of crazy fun. the museum wasn’t anything like the Minnesota children’s museum in saint paul, but it’s incredible and better in many ways. the whole museum could fit into the LOBBY of the saint paul museum but man those kids had fun.

i’ve been so moved by these children. it’s almost unbearable at times. i hear the stories, see the faces, and i just cry… literally. two things have stuck out to me quite strongly in the last two days (names have been changed).

1. billy is 12. he’s laying on the ground like all the rest of the class… we’re writing out names vertically on a piece of paper and then writing a word or phrase that begins with each of the letters of our names to describe ourselves – billy has chosen the word “invisible” for his “i” word. i’ve watched him spell it i-n-y and then scribble it out. next he tried i-n-u and then he scribbled that out as well. then i watched him stare at the letters i-n for a minute or more. i finally came over to him and asked if he needed any help. his response? whispering so the other kids in the class couldn’t hear, he said “mister tom, i can’t remember how to make a ‘v’.” it took a bit to choke back the tears… here’s my darling, adorable billy, 12 years old, and he can’t make a ‘v’. this is typical of kids who have been thru trauma, they regress by years – there are many kids in my 4/5/6th grade class who can’t read.
   
2. wrestling boys huggin me.

dammit - i need to go now... some asshole youth leader w/ another group staying in our dorm room decided to tell the entire room of guys (three separate groups) that he's turning out the lights in five mintues. THEN he had the balls to tell us that he undid several lights and that the room will be pitch black (LEGAL ISSUE!).

anyway... gotta post later... adios!