Faith Mission Home
NOTICE: Brain is tired, I know soon-to-be highschool teachers should have better sentence structure than the following, but at present I am not caring.
July 30 I flew from Oregon to Charlottesville, VA to visit my friend LG who is doing a term of service at Faith Mission Home (an Anabaptist home for handicapped persons). She and a couple other girls picked me up at the airport around 11 pm and we drove off to a mountain cabin for the night. After eating chocolate ice cream with honey nut O's (for this I was ridiculed though I stuck to my guns. Choco ice cream is much better with crunchy additives :) ) I entered a night of slumber with soft breeze playing across the cabin loft.
The following morning we prepared to depart and shortly before we left I heard that typical Appalachian blue grassy music -- being played live (?) some distance across the mountain slope.
The rest of the weekend I was at the mercy of Lyd and her friends. They had big plans for their day off -- swimming in a reserved man-made lake. This I was excited for, though somewhat trepidatious.
You see, it wasn't like I thought some monster would arise from the lake and drag me to its depths. I wasn't worried about things over which I had no power. I was worried over this battle between wanting to do the normal lake swimming stuff (like diving off the peer and sliding off a water slide into deep water) and wondering if I was up to snuff in my swimming abilities. I had the desire to perform, the desire to not be a woos... and at the same time the desire to not, er, get in permanently over my head... if you know what I mean.
My brother and I were pretty decent swimmers as 9 and 11 year olds, but since that time I had not gone swimming until this spring. And for whatever reason I learned the back stroke/crawl and underwater swimming this year and had not yet recalled to practice my old method of front-ways swimming with head above water.
Anyway, we picked up a couple three other girls from FMH and headed off for the lake -- an hour's drive. A mid-summer day, this... and no one seemed to think our plans would be foiled by precipitation. However, as we neared the lake we realized the cloudy sky was remaining and providing us with blessings. "It'll stop by the time we get to the lake," thought we optimistically.
Yeah....
Well, it didn't. So we thought... "let's eat lunch, and then maybe the rain will be stopped." Um, hum.
So we ate, and it was still raining but there were some small patches of blue sky.
It was middling warm, a bit of a breeze, didn't really entice us toward the water. But shoot, we'd driven all the way out there and what else was there to do?
So we donned our swimming duds and headed for the shore.
And went swimming. In the rain. And it was actually pretty fun.
The lake has a 30 yard rubber slide with a water supply at the top. Start at the top, lay on the provided foam mat, give yourself a push with the toes, and away you go -- faster and faster until woosh!-splat! you blast onto the water accompanied by a sizeable spray and everyone screams. Given the correct technique (some way of holding the mat edge like the front of a snow sled) you can blast a pretty decent distance out into the water.
The lake also sports a diving board and pier from which "all manner" of slicing dives, cannon balls, belly flops, and intra-air flips were accomplished that day. One of the girls brought along a hula hoop through which to direct the dives.
This swimming excursion was for me a significant emotional event. I recalled my past manner of swimming (yoohoo!) which impowered me to swim greater distances, swallowed/inhaled a minimal amount of water, and enjoyed a few dives. It was a day of remembering, of conquering fears, of exhilarating enjoyment. A day, perhaps, of accomplishments far below my age group. Who cares?
***
Friday evening volleyball (quintessential Mennonite youth game) and food at one of the FMH staff houses... running into Corey Anderson and recalling "ancient" history from FB College Retreat 2005 (has it really been 4 years since then?)... playing this great nonresistant Mennonite game called Mennonite Madness/Manners (a game I would be disinclined to play with great frequency)... et cetera. Such were the happenings that day.
I interacted briefly with a few of the FMH residents on Friday, and on Saturday and Monday ate a few meals with them. I guess I didn't really know what to expect from these people. Didn't know how it'd be to interact with them. If I'd be embarrassed, not know what to say, whatever. I found the interactions to be amazingly comfortable. Out of my comfort zone, sure, at least at first, but very manageable. The residents are very outgoing and not at all shy to speak to or otherwise interact with visitors. The FMH staff demonstrate such hearts of love and acceptance for the residents that I also felt such interactions to be the norm.
I found myself discussing insects and catching a cricket with one girl, holding hands with another, playing ball, talking/"talking" about Corn Day with the fellow at the breakfast table.
It's not like the general public where I might feel ridiculed for conversing with the mentally handicapped.
***
Saturday was a major corn processing day, and numerous of the cottage (more independent) residents had a blast helping with this event. Perhaps pictures will some day follow.
July 30 I flew from Oregon to Charlottesville, VA to visit my friend LG who is doing a term of service at Faith Mission Home (an Anabaptist home for handicapped persons). She and a couple other girls picked me up at the airport around 11 pm and we drove off to a mountain cabin for the night. After eating chocolate ice cream with honey nut O's (for this I was ridiculed though I stuck to my guns. Choco ice cream is much better with crunchy additives :) ) I entered a night of slumber with soft breeze playing across the cabin loft.
The following morning we prepared to depart and shortly before we left I heard that typical Appalachian blue grassy music -- being played live (?) some distance across the mountain slope.
The rest of the weekend I was at the mercy of Lyd and her friends. They had big plans for their day off -- swimming in a reserved man-made lake. This I was excited for, though somewhat trepidatious.
You see, it wasn't like I thought some monster would arise from the lake and drag me to its depths. I wasn't worried about things over which I had no power. I was worried over this battle between wanting to do the normal lake swimming stuff (like diving off the peer and sliding off a water slide into deep water) and wondering if I was up to snuff in my swimming abilities. I had the desire to perform, the desire to not be a woos... and at the same time the desire to not, er, get in permanently over my head... if you know what I mean.
My brother and I were pretty decent swimmers as 9 and 11 year olds, but since that time I had not gone swimming until this spring. And for whatever reason I learned the back stroke/crawl and underwater swimming this year and had not yet recalled to practice my old method of front-ways swimming with head above water.
Anyway, we picked up a couple three other girls from FMH and headed off for the lake -- an hour's drive. A mid-summer day, this... and no one seemed to think our plans would be foiled by precipitation. However, as we neared the lake we realized the cloudy sky was remaining and providing us with blessings. "It'll stop by the time we get to the lake," thought we optimistically.
Yeah....
Well, it didn't. So we thought... "let's eat lunch, and then maybe the rain will be stopped." Um, hum.
So we ate, and it was still raining but there were some small patches of blue sky.
It was middling warm, a bit of a breeze, didn't really entice us toward the water. But shoot, we'd driven all the way out there and what else was there to do?
So we donned our swimming duds and headed for the shore.
And went swimming. In the rain. And it was actually pretty fun.
The lake has a 30 yard rubber slide with a water supply at the top. Start at the top, lay on the provided foam mat, give yourself a push with the toes, and away you go -- faster and faster until woosh!-splat! you blast onto the water accompanied by a sizeable spray and everyone screams. Given the correct technique (some way of holding the mat edge like the front of a snow sled) you can blast a pretty decent distance out into the water.
The lake also sports a diving board and pier from which "all manner" of slicing dives, cannon balls, belly flops, and intra-air flips were accomplished that day. One of the girls brought along a hula hoop through which to direct the dives.
This swimming excursion was for me a significant emotional event. I recalled my past manner of swimming (yoohoo!) which impowered me to swim greater distances, swallowed/inhaled a minimal amount of water, and enjoyed a few dives. It was a day of remembering, of conquering fears, of exhilarating enjoyment. A day, perhaps, of accomplishments far below my age group. Who cares?
***
Friday evening volleyball (quintessential Mennonite youth game) and food at one of the FMH staff houses... running into Corey Anderson and recalling "ancient" history from FB College Retreat 2005 (has it really been 4 years since then?)... playing this great nonresistant Mennonite game called Mennonite Madness/Manners (a game I would be disinclined to play with great frequency)... et cetera. Such were the happenings that day.
I interacted briefly with a few of the FMH residents on Friday, and on Saturday and Monday ate a few meals with them. I guess I didn't really know what to expect from these people. Didn't know how it'd be to interact with them. If I'd be embarrassed, not know what to say, whatever. I found the interactions to be amazingly comfortable. Out of my comfort zone, sure, at least at first, but very manageable. The residents are very outgoing and not at all shy to speak to or otherwise interact with visitors. The FMH staff demonstrate such hearts of love and acceptance for the residents that I also felt such interactions to be the norm.
I found myself discussing insects and catching a cricket with one girl, holding hands with another, playing ball, talking/"talking" about Corn Day with the fellow at the breakfast table.
It's not like the general public where I might feel ridiculed for conversing with the mentally handicapped.
***
Saturday was a major corn processing day, and numerous of the cottage (more independent) residents had a blast helping with this event. Perhaps pictures will some day follow.
posted by Claire at 13:15
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