Letter 6

Dear Family and Friends,

I hope this letter finds you all well in 2012. As I told you at the end of my last letter, a lot has gone down in the past two months…I’ll try and give you some highlights.

20 Años Puntos Corazón Perú

For those of you who don’t know, the first Heart’s Home opened in Argentina 21 years ago and one year later arrived in Peru. The house was founded in the outskirts of Northern Lima in a neighborhood known as “La Ensenada”, a neighborhood founded by people who moved to Lima from the mountains. Lima is full of neighborhoods as such that are referred to as invasions; about 40 years ago there was a massive movement of traditional mountain people to Lima, founding there homes in unoccupied territory but without passing through the normal legal process. Therefore, Lima is full of micro-cities that for many years left millions of people living outside of the rights afforded to other “Limeños” such as running water, electricity, education, etc. Now the majority of these “pueblos jovenes” have been incorporated as official parts of the city, but you can only imagine the chaos of a city that developed for 2 decades without recognizing the presence of 3 million peopl e. While there are now two Heart’s Homes in Lima (my house in central Lima was founded 3 years later), the two neighborhoods are two distinct realities; Barrios Altos is loud and urban while La Ensenada maintains a more tranquil and simple ambiance. A few years after the foundation of the Heart’s Home in Barrios Altos, the Heart’s Home sisters arrived and now live right outside of the city. Throughout the years the Peruvian Heart’s Home family has multiplied with Peruvians who have gone on mission to other countries and more than 100 missionaries who have passed through the Heart’s Homes here in Lima. The gift of such a large and strong Heart’s Home community along with a new chapel constructed on the sister’s property gave us all reason to celebrate the 20^th anniversary. All things considered, our founder Father Thierry de Roucy came to share in all the festivities. When the Heart’s Home community in Ecuador caught wind a fe w months beforehand, they made plans to come to Peru. Many long hours, days, and months were invested to plan an awesome 3 day weekend which included a conference given by Father Thierry entitled “The Beauty of the Humble People”, an afternoon of events in La Ensenada, and finally an afternoon at the sister’s house complete with an inauguration mass of the new chapel, a “Pachamanca” (a traditional Peruvian cookout of sorts), and hundreds of friends.

In the midst of all the craziness, what I will always remember and treasure the most is the people surrounding me during it all. Let me take one step back to explain another factor in this story. All of our communities were in time of transition of new people arriving and old one returning to their respective countries making each community a litter large than usual. Honestly, normally having 11 people in our house for 5 days would have driven me out of my mind, but having the community from Ecuador in our house was truly a blessing. While we all come from various countries, it is amazing to see how the charism of Heart’s Home truly connects us all… how we are all living something extraordinary that is often times hard to express with words. Being in the presence of 21 people who are experiencing the same thing as myself was a gift beyond words.

Another interesting tidbit about this Heart’s Home mega mix is that it included 4 Americans (Katie and Lenore on mission in Ecuador, Kari in La Ensenada, and myself) plus Father Thierry whom is French but lives in New York. Many people are under the impression that in whatever part of the world, you are surely to encounter fellow Americans and fluent English speakers at every turn of the corner… this has not been my case. Outside of the visit from my mom and brother, I can think of two brief American/English speaking encounters since I’ve been here so when I found myself in a room with 3 other American girls my age, it was total culture shock! My most profound “whoa, I have really lived in Peru for over a year” moment was during a mass celebrated by Father Thierry; he offered me the Holy Eucharist as the “Body of Christ” in place of “El cuerpo de Cristo” to which I have grown accustomed. As melodramatic as it sounds, I immediately burst into tears. I real ized that over the past year I have subconsciously disconnected from back home, but in that moment everyone and everything I hold dear and precious came flooding into my heart. The Body of Christ is not contained here in Lima or even with Heart’s Home. It is in Rome, New Orleans and New York. It is in Argentina, Chile, and El Salvador. It is in Montgomery, Alabama. It is universal. In that moment I remembered Holy Spirit parish and St. Francis in Tuscaloosa; I remembered every member of my family and all of my friends who have been by my side up until this moment. It was a moment of profound gratitude that the Body of Christ has been present in my life, is present in my life, and will be present in my life when I leave Peru. St. Paul’s words to the Philippians ring true for my affection for each of you.

“I give thanks to my God at every remembrance of you, praying always with joy in my every prayer for all of you, because of your partnership for the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus. It is right that I should think this way about all of you, because I hold you in my heart, you who are all partners with me in grace, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus. And this is my prayer: that your love may increase ever more and more in knowledge and every kind of perception, to discern what is of value, so that you may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.” (Philippians 1: 3-1)

Fiestas 2011-12

By the time Christmas showed up, I found myself in a totally new community from the year before. Ceci and Benja returned home at the end of November, leaving myself with Nathan, Mathilde, Agata (Agathe), and Benito (Benoit), all from France. Padre Lorenzo/ Father Lawrence, whom is responsible for my community, came to visit us as well as the whole Heart’s Home community in Peru for the month of December. His official role is to check in on the well being of each one of us, our community as a whole, and guide us in our mission here in Barrios Altos. What always amazes me the most about Padre Lorenzo is his fidelity to his vocation to Heart’s Home…while all of us come and go every year or two, he remains, and receives every person he comes into contact with as if he was his best friend… this is clearly evident as all of our neighbors anxiously await him in the street every time he comes!

A few days before Christmas, Padre went to the sister’s house to celebrate Christmas and Nathan’s parents, Elizabeth and Oliver, arrived to celebrate Christmas with us December 24. Christmas eve, we went to ‘’Midnight Mass’’ at 9 pm and then returned to our house to eat the dinner that Agata and I had prepared and exchange gifts with our Secret Santa. At midnight, as goes the tradition here, everyone opens their doors to greet each other, shoot off a few fireworks, and of course show off their new clothes. Christmas Day I went with Agata and Elizabeth to greet a few families while Mathilde and Nathan were cooking, and then we came home to share lunch and pass the afternoon on our patio with a few friends including Berta, Claudia, and Jose Antonio. If you remember from my last letter, Berta and Claudia suffer from a household of hatred and as a result are convinced that no one could possible want to spend more than ten minutes with them. At least five times, they tried to make lame excuses to why they had to return back to their house but we managed to make them stay for the whole afternoon. The greatest gift of the day was to finally see them singing, laughing, and hugging each one of us.

The next few days were filled with visiting our friends to wish them a Merry Christmas and drinking liters upon liters of Inca Kola (most popular Peruvian soda…it’s yellow and taste like bubblegum). For New Years, Nathan’s parents left and Padre Lorenzo returned to join in the party in Barrios Altos. A tradition in Peru is to construct a life size doll of old clothes from the previous year and to set it ablaze at midnight, a symbolic burning of all of the bad things from the previous year in order to enter the New Year with a fresh start. As soon as Nathan heard about this tradition, he put himself in charge of constructing the doll with the kids on our street…it was a success!

The next day, Padre Lorenzo went back to Chile and here we are in 2012, truckin’ along. Sometimes it seems crazy that I have now been here for 16 months and struggle to speak English (sorry if it shows in thisletter), however I am happier than ever and learning more and more everyday to embrace everyday and all of its surprises as it comes.

I will be home before soon… the beginning of April! Please continue to pray for me, for my community, and for Barrios Altos. I will do the same.

Con todo mi amor,
Charlotte

Sponsor Letter 5

Mis queridos familiares y amigos,

I hope this letter finds you all well as winter approaches and college football is winding down...please eat a jalepeño popper loaded with cheese and bacon for me.

Before arriving in Peru, I had a little “down time” between May graduation and my departure in September. I kicked it off with my Heart’s Home formation in June, followed by three months with me, myself, and I; that’s to say I had a lot of time to think about what was about to go down in my life. I came to accept the fact that I really had no clue what the next year and a half was going to be like because previous life experience had shown that reality usually strays far from imagination. Nevertheless, I was sure of the basics: I was going to another country; I was going to live in a community; I was going to have a more structured prayer life; I was going to attempt to be some form of presence and compassion for those I encountered. With all of this in mind, I was sure of one other thing: I was going to come face to face with suffering... in the life of those around me and personally. For me, this private mediation seemed so clear and natural; however, I remember when I shared this part of my future mission with a dear friend, his response, in more or less words, was “Hold up wait a minute! You never told me that part of the whole gig. Why the heck would you want to do that?!” Who knows exactly what my response was because its one of those things that makes perfect sense in my heart but struggle to verbalize.

Yesterday, someone confronted me with the question of why we must suffer, especially why some more than others. While I am still just a mere little Chuck (as my siblings have eternally dubbed me), I offered her this response, “Claudia, I really don’t know…suffering will always be a mystery to me. Nevertheless, it’s a key part of the human experience…so if we don’t confront it, we will just be all the more lost. But there is one thing I do know. God became man and experienced the ultimate suffering… so not only are we not alone in our suffering, but moreover it draws us close to the Person of Christ.”

All the same, the real life confrontation with suffering has not been/is not easy, but this passage I discovered my first month here has accompanied me through it all…it has given meaning to my mission. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all consolation, who consoles us in our every affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God. For as Christ’s sufferings overflow to us, so through Christ does our consolation also overflow.”
2 Corinthians 1: 3-5

These past few months, it seems like suffering has been showing up on our doorstep more than ever (or maybe I just opened my eyes), and these words from St. Paul have come to be a sort of mantra. As always, I’ll try and share a little so that your prayers may be in union with ours.

Juan Carlos

Juan Carlos came into our life about a year ago. Basically he stumbled into our house one day as we were praying the rosary with the kids and continued to come under the pretext that we were a “prayer group”. Little by little, we got to know Juan Carlos and his mom Nelly, enough to realize that Juan Carlos was once a vibrant young musician, active in the community and parish; however, past sufferings have left him socially paralyzed… Juan Carlos normally stammers through a conversation, repeating the same thing over and over again, but put a guitar in his hands, and little by little the Juan Carlos full of life comes out of hiding.

About two months ago, he showed up one afternoon while I was playing with the kids outside. While I couldn’t give him all of my attention, it was evident that something was up, and when I asked him how he was doing he could only keep repeating “Estoy muy mal… no puedo seguir asi…- I’m doing really bad…I can’t go on like this,” and with that, he left. As soon as Benja and Nathan (my brothers of community) came back to the house, I related the story to them and begged that we do something…what I wasn’t sure. Well, that same night Juan Carlos showed up to the house, hardly able to breathe and saying the same thing. Benja invited him into the house to have a tea and talk, but he refused. The boys accompanied him back to his house, trying to fill him with words of hope. The next evening, he returned in the same state. This time he accepted the invitation to enter the house. Benja offered him the guitar to play, hoping to raise his spirits, but instead he sai d, “No, I can’t, I can’t” and began to weep. It was if the guitar triggered his past, and he began to tell his story. He left that night more or less in the same state, but at least grateful for having “spilled his guts.” Seriously worried about his fragile state, we sought advice from our parish priest with whom Juan Carlos had previously spoken, and then spoke with his mother with references of professional help. In moments like these, we as a community, realize our limitations and our weaknesses and are forced to remember the core of our mission… that we are here to be a presence, in front of God and our friends, and we pray that the consolation that God provides us can overflow in those we accompany. So that’s what we have done, and it seems that at least Juan Carlos can now take a deep breath.

A few weeks ago there was a large celebration in a neighborhood nearby to celebrate the passing of the relics of St. Therese of Lisieux. I was brought to tears when I saw Juan Carlos, decked out with his slacks and blazer, cheering alongside his mom.

Claudia and Berta.

Berta is the aunt whom raised Claudia, and the two have known Heart’s Home for years. The community was there when Claudia found out she was pregnant, when Jose Antonio (pictured) was born, and for his two birthdays. When Berta fell and broke her hip two years ago, she called the house, and we have been accompanying her to her doctor visits ever since. The two of them are very simple-minded, and trying to figure out how to be a young mother and recover from an injury consumes the majority of their everyday. However their greatest suffering is the hate they encounter in their home from Claudia’s dad (Berta’s brother) and her brother. Several times Berta has escaped to our house when she can’t handle hearing any more from her brother how worthless she is… sometimes she drinks her tea in silence and listens to our conversation, while at others she seeks a hug and weeps as she tells us about her familial conflicts. Claudia is far from being an optimist as she always responds “horrible” when prompted how she is. Her only wish is that Jose Antonio can grow up in a home without hate, where he knows he is loved. I have hope that she can achieve this goal. When I first met Claudia she said minimal words without eye contact; now she at least has plans and sheds a smile from time to time. “Paso a paso” they say here…step by step.

Jose Antonio

Señora Rosario y Félix.

Señora Rosario is your all-around “Señora de la Parroquia”, that’s to say, church-lady… serving at daily mass as lector, singer, usher, or all of the above. Hopefully, you don’t have a false mental image…many times the church-lady gets a bad rap as a crankety old woman…Señora Rosario is everything but crankety; rather, she is the eternal optimist “porque está con Cristo”... “because she is with Christ”. That being said, you can imagine my preoccupation when she called the house one morning, almost crying, and asked to come by the house. As we were all waiting for her at our kitchen table, I was worried that something had happened with someone in her family. When she arrived, she wasted no time to tell us that she needed our connection with the Home of Peace (if you remember from my last letter, we volunteer at the Home of Peace which is a home for elderly homeless men and handicapped children) because she could not bear to see Felix, a homeless ma n on the corner, sleep through one more cold rainy night. I’m a little ashamed to say that I knew exactly who she was talking about seeing as I had passed him countless times, and just the day before had paused for a second just long enough to make sure he was still breathing. I’m further ashamed to say that my first reaction was to be annoyed with Señora Rosario… annoyed that she had interrupted our community meeting and lead me to believe that one of her precious children or grandchildren was gravely ill. However, as she continued talking, my annoyance soon turned to wonder as I saw the true compassion that Señora Rosario had for her fellow human being whom she didn’t even know. Long story short, we spoke with the House of Peace, and an extra space had just become available the day before; Nathan went with Señora Rosario the following day, changed his clothes, and took him in a taxi to the House of Peace. When we went to the House of Peace the following Friday, I literally didn’t even recognize him…a man I thought dead a week before now strolls in a garden, well-groomed, and conversing with others. I can now say that I have come face to face with the Good Samaritan and Lazarus...sweet life.

Jean Pierre.

While I shouldn’t have favorites among the children, I have to admit that Jean Pierre is a favorite of mine. He is known as a menace, but his heart is pure innocence. Today, his prayer intentions during the rosary were for his family, his grandparents (yeah I know, they go in the general category of family but he always separates his “abuelitos”), and his dad who “se han llevado”… - they’ve taken away -…that’s to say, he has been put in prison. Please pray for Jean Pierre, his brother Gerardo, his sister Alexandra, his dad, and his pregnant mother.

Natan, Charlotte, Benjamin & Cecilia

Newbies: Agatha, Mathilde, and Benito

Before parting, I will paint a small picture of the craziness of our lives these days and hopefully in the nextletter I can tell you how it all pans out. If you remember, my community consisted of three people for a few months: myself, Ceci, and Benja. In the past two months, Nathan, Agathe, Benoit, and Mathilde, all from France, have joined our community, bringing us to 7 people, and Ceci and Benja will return to Argentina and Chile, respectively, in two weeks. On the agenda for this week: a new sister will join the Heart’s Home nuns in Lima; our founder Father Thierry, along with the Heart’s Home community from Ecuador (6 people) arrived Thursday to celebrate the 20^th anniversary of Heart’s Home in Peru and the inauguration of a new chapel on the sister’s property; Lorena and Severine (members of the other community in Lima) will celebrate the end of their mission here in Peru this weekend. On the count of 3, let’s all take a deep breath and get ready to live it up! One, two, three…

If we don’t talk beforehand, Happy Thanksgiving!

Peace and Love,

Charlotte

Sponsor Letter 4

Dear Family and Friends,

I am going to start this letter being quite blunt (because my sister always told me that she can count on me to be blunt…I’ll leave you to decide whether that’s a good thing or not). Writing these letters totally gives me the shakes, that’s to say, gives me anxiety because I don’t know where to begin to tell you all about what I am experiencing here in Peru. But that’s just it… I am not participating in a scientific experiment or even a humanitarian project that I can reduce to a few quantitative bullet points. Rather, I am here living life, full of uncontrollable laughter and tears alongside all of our friends.

What I would like to do is take each one of you by the hand and introduce you to all the sights, sounds, and smells that fill my life everyday: the brightly painted houses that give a little color to the grey filled skies; the constant shouts of children that come from the elementary school next to our house, the unintelligible shouts of the men with their bicycle-carts, supposedly shouting the items for sale with their price; “las señoras de las salsas”/ “the sauce ladies”, who have all solutions for your Peruvian cooking needs (LK, you would go nuts); the rancid smell of the chicken and fish street vendors; the salsa music and dog barks that serve as our lullabies. When my mom came to visit me in June, she brought it to my attention that all of these things that seemed so shocking to her have become for me a source of normalcy and comfort.

My brother and my mom came to visit me…that is definitely something to talk about! In typical Ingalls fashion, my mom, Anna Lee, arrived with a sprained ankle and my brother, Victor, with the flu…but such is the life, and we went with the flow. In fact, I think it made the experience all the more authentic as Victor had to go to the neighborhood clinic with Benjamin and be a little more dependent on others to do things for him. All the same, he managed to gather enough strength to accompany my mom and me to mass, play with the kids, and visit a few friends. It was truly surreal to watch the interaction between my “two worlds”, especially as the kids climbed on my brother as if he were a jungle gym and understood everything my mom said to them even though she was talking in English. I suppose there is a universal mom language understood by all children! Mom and I at Machu Picchu. Why I can’t physically take you by the hand as I did Mom and Victor, I’ll once again try my best to introduce to a few more aspects of our life here.

Myself, Benjamin, Ceci & my brother Victor

Hogar de La Paz

We have two outside apostolates, meaning two places we go outside of our neighborhood to help out once a week, one of which is the Hogar de La Paz/ Home of Peace, where we go every Friday morning. The home is run by the Sisters of Charity, the order founded by Mother Teresa, and it is truly everything you would imagine it would be. To start with, the neighborhood in which it is located (a mere 20 minute walk from our house) has been referred to as the Calcutta of Peru. It is disgusting in every sense of the word. The smells are disgusting, the mounds of trash in the street are disgusting, the crime is disgusting, the living conditions are disgusting. After nearly a year, every time we go, I am always taken aback and dumbfounded to understand the striking discrepancy of wealth and lifestyle here in Lima, as the surrounding neighborhoods literally appear to be a different world.

All that to say, the House of Peace truly lives up to its name. When you walk through the little brown door, you are greeted by a well kept garden and an abundance of smiling faces. The home more or less has two parts: downstairs is occupied by homeless elderly men and upstairs is home to about 40 severely handicapped children abandoned at birth (I say children, but many of these babies are now 16 years old). We always help out upstairs doing anything from washing clothes and trimming nails to strolling the halls with the few who can walk and feeding some of the older boys. When the newest member of our community, Nathan from France, returned from the home the past Friday, he summed up his experience with the word “provocative”. Besides the outside neighborhood which I already described, the life inside the home definitely makes the brain churn. One is confronted with what it really means to be human as he looks into the eyes of the boys in the wheelchairs with their mangled arms and lack of words. Many people, obviously including their own parents, struggle to see them as humans, worthy of all the same things as you and I. That being said, I am always struck by the care the sisters give to all the children. Every moment of their day that is not occupied by prayer, is filled with the little tasks essential for maintaining the home and making sure all the residents feel comfortable and loved. They give every ounce of their being to people who will never be able to physically give them something in return, but all boys that we spend time with every week are full of little reminders that they in fact are grateful for the love they receive. Jose Martin, without making eye contact, will gently take your hand, smile and make a gurgling sound in his throat. At the sound of your voice, Carlitos awakes from his stupor to give you the world’s biggest smile and shout. Santos, totally incapable of speaking, pierces your heart with the longing in his eyes to be loved as he reaches out for you with his hand. Yoshi is always ready to entertain us as he zooms through the hall in his wheelchair laughing.

In a small town is Bosnia-Hersogovania, the Blessed Virgin Mary is believed to appear to a group of children with this message: Dear Children! Pray, pray, pray! Today I invite you to dedicate yourself to God, because distance from God is the fruit of the lack of peace in your hearts. God is only peace. Therefore, approach him through your personal prayer and then live peace in your hearts and in this way peace will flow from your hearts like a river into the whole world. Do not talk about peace, but make peace.

The Sisters of Charity will tell you that the most important part of their day to day life, are the moments of silence they dedicate to prayer. Alone, they would never be able to do the work that they do. The peace in Christ that they encounter in the depths of their hearts overflows into their Home of Peace.

Charo

Fabricio

How many times have I heard that being a mom is the hardest job in the world? Whelp, I don’t doubt it for one second. I am convinced that it is a manifestation of Christ on the Cross. A true mother is simultaneously overwhelmed with love and suffering, all for the sake of her children. Charo is no exception to the rule as she cares for Vilma (16), Martín (11) who suffers from Down Syndrome and Autism, and Fabricio (in the photo) (8). We try to make the ever present challenge of being in two places at once a little easier for her from time to time by hanging out at her house with kids while she goes to the doctor, to attend various school functions, to sell cakes on the corner to have enough money to pay for Martín´s diapers, or whatever other mom duty calls. This past week, we all took turns spending the night at her house so she could be by her father´s side when he passed away. However some of my most treasured times in Charo’s home are when she is actually ther e, to offer me a warm hug and hold my hand as we talk on the couch, normally with a mix of laughter and tears as tells me about all of her problems yet full of joy because she is not alone. I can’t count how many times she has told me that she has had a life full of trials but is so lucky because she is not alone; God has always looked after her and sent her guardian angels (which she claims we are). In the midst of all of her personal physical and emotional suffering, her greatest concern is that her children are happy and aware that they are eternally loved, “Yo sé que no puedo dar mis niños todas las cosas materiales, pero puedo amarlos con todo mi ser. I know that I can´t give my children on the material items in the world, but I can love them with all of my being.¨ All the while, Charo is human just like the rest of us, and I see her more and more tired every day. Please pray that she has the strength to carry on with her heart full of Love.

I hope this letter finds you all well as you bask in the summer sun!

Ceci & I with the aprons someone gave us

Mum and I in Machu Pichu

Peace, Love, Prayers,

Charlotte

Sponsor Letter 3

¨¡Cristo resucitó aleluya, venció la muerte con amor!…Christ is risen, alleluia, conquering death with love.¨ Happy Easter! I hope you are all filled with the same joy as we are in Barrios Altos as we sing this song.

As of April 18^th, I have now been in Peru for seven months. Summer is slowly melting into fall, and I am in the midst of my first Holy Week outside of the United States in a country rich with tradition. Before Lent begins, Lima has a Mardi Gras of sorts referred to as Carnival. As parades are the key ingredient for Mardi Gras, water is the defining factor of Carnival. For the four Sundays leading up to Lent, Lima is transformed into a water war zone, and I think it is safe to say that Coronel Zubiaga (our street) is the frontline (for all fiestas, for that matter). More or less, everyone piles into the street with their kiddie pools, grills, and weapon of their choice: water balloons, buckets, pots, etc. The mission is to ensure that passes through your territory dry. No worries…we took full advantage of our barricade, aka our roof overlooking the street.

Carnival

The passing of Carnival signaled the coming of Lent, a time of meditation and preparation for the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. As a community, we have been trying our best to live out this Lenten season with the consciousness that we are in the midst of the most important part of our liturgical year as Christians by explaining to the kids (when they are calm enough to listen for 2 minutes) what exactly Easter is… what exactly Holy Week is, more than an excuse to cancel classes for a few days. Every Friday we walked them through the Stations of the Cross (14 meditations retracing Jesus’ walk to Calvary) in our patio and on the street and on Good Friday accompanied the procession around the neighborhood with our parish.

Stations of the Cross

Just between the four of us (Ceci, Jessi, Benja, and myself), we have been participating in the different activities in our parish and central Lima, but more than anything I think we have all been trying to really embrace the contemplative part of our mission: daily mass, our hour of adoration, morning and night prayer, the Rosary, different books and articles, and all of our conversations in between (let me say how grateful I am to live in a community where we all marvel and struggle through all of the above together).

The Community: Charlotte, Ceci, Jessi, Benja

In my personal pray, I have been pleading to learn how to accompany Christ in his Passion. I think His response has been that I need to contemplate “humanness”…my own humanness, the humanness of those around me, the humanness of Christ, and that they are all intertwined… because as much as I can’t seem to wrap my head around it, God, omnipotent and omniscient, became human in the person of Christ, whom experienced extreme joy and extreme suffering, all of the sake of love… all so that His sons and daughters could have a relatable Father.
Our founder, Father Thierry de Roucy shared these words with a group of missionaries before they departed:

God loved you first and before anyone else. He knows you like no other and knows the best way to satisfy the thirst in your heart: it’s to give yourself without saying, it’s to search for Him night and day; it´s to discover in the face of your neighbors the meaning of your own existence.

As I have not properly done so before, allow me to introduce you to some of these faces.

Chano: Heart´s Home Santa Rosa de Lima All-Star. Known and loved by all, Chano is 23 years old, mentally handicapped, and our daily joy. While he has a family that lives about two blocks from our house, Chano more or less lives in the streets off the generosity of the people (he washes dishes in the market next to our house in exchange for food). Chano´s vocabulary is limited to a few muffled words, sometimes making his comprehension questionable; however what we are sure of is the when it comes to the Church, he understands better than most. He reverently follows along during Mass, genuflects upon entering our chapel, and tears up at the mention of the Virgin Mary, better known as ¨madre.¨

Ceci, Chano and myself

I offer you this little story to sum up the wonder that is the life of Chano. On Palm Sunday, we went to the cathedral in the main plaza (a good 30 minute walk) to pray the Rosary along with the Bishop and Cardinal of Lima, a handful of dignitaries, and thousands of other locals. The best comparison I can think of to provide a mental image is a political rally of sorts… the Bishop, Cardinal, and other important folk were on the stairs of the cathedral enclosed with a barricade. Next was about five rows of members of the guild of Señor de los Milagros (think Knights of Columbus, and if you are still confused insert the civic fraternity of your choice…the Lions perhaps), and then finally the commoners like ourselves. At the conclusion of the Rosary, I was intently listening to the Cardinal as he offered a brief reflection and blessing when Jessi tapped me on the shoulder frantically repeating ¨Chano! Chano! Chano!¨ That´s right….someway, somehow, Chano made his way downtown, emerged from the crowd, made his way up to the barricade, and the Cardinal laid his hands on his head with a blessing!! We started flailing our arms to get his attention, and he came charging toward us literally in a state of pure euphoria. We all basked in the glory of the moment for about 20 minutes and then all made our way back to the barrio……..Chano……enough said.

Dona Lucy

Señora Lucy: Because of Señora Lucy, I really have no idea how much vegetables cost. During my first month here in Lima, Lucy began to sell vegetables about a block from our house. In all honesty, for a long time we never exchanged many words with her, strictly business, but we soon started to note that for 1 sol ($0.35) we were returning home with a more than sufficient supply of vegetables. In addition to her absurdly low prices, she always gives us an added bonus of limes and rocoto (typical Peruvian hot pepper); attempting to politely refuse her gift or offer her more money is taken at great offense. In the past few months, we have begun to exchange histories a little bit, but never anything too profound. I think more than anything, there is a mutual appreciation of the presence of each other. Lucy’s love is simple; it’s handing us a bag of triple the amount of tomatoes we asked for, ordering us ¨Toma, no más…just take it.¨

Abuela Betty, Charlotte, Alejandra, and Jessika at Kiara´s Quince (15^th Birthday Party)

Abuela Betty: I am currently sitting here in her house writing you this letter. As ¨abuela¨ means grandmother, she is exactly that…her house is the go-to house to plop on the couch and not worry about a thing. One of her daughters, Marlene lives with her with her 3 children and her other two daughters live within a two minute walk. We refer to them as ¨las mujeres ponderosas…the powerful women¨ as they are always together (more often than not I run into them in the market in the morning and they offer me tips to enhance my attempt at Peruvian cuisine.) Moreover, Betty´s granddaughter Kiara (15 years old) is one of our most faithful friends and hopes to leave on a Heart´s Home mission in a few years.

Frachesco, Jean Pierre, Gerardo, Gian Franco

Los Niños: The mutual source of all joy and angst, as all you teachers reading this right now can attest to. It seems just about every week a new handful of kids stumble into the house, always with the typical mix of well-behaved subdued children and those who are a bit more rambunctious. The later never fail to give me a run for my money as I try to maintain some sort of order, but their personal problems which I have briefly told you about in previous letters are always in the back of my mind. Moreover, any angst that I might have (instigated by the kids or anyone/thing else) quickly flees my mind as I turn the corner onto our street and they come running toward me armed with hugs. A recent newcomer, Nayara, seems to know exactly when I need her to hug my neck and say very matter -of –factly“Hermanita, te quiero mucho”…Hermanita (literally means little sister, but the term used by all in the neighborhood to refer to us) I lo ve you lots!¨
As I am in our chapel with my eyes glued on Christ in the Holy Eucharist and my ears ringing with the voices of the kids playing outside the window, it is then that I remember exactly why I am here and have a clearer understanding of ¨the meaning of my existence.¨

Arais, Charlotte, Nayara, Rosa, Vivi

I´ll conclude with more of Father Thierry’s message:

"It is a true mercy to have the opportunity to give of yourself in this way, but it is also a true mercy in which you will begin to discover the limits of your offering, the fragility of your generosity […]From the beginning, you discover a new aspect, but surely not the least, of the mercy of which you are a beneficiary consisting of learning how to beg; in other words to live continually with filial dependence on He who is the fountain of all gifts."
-¨A Marian Attitude¨, Father Thierry de Roucy, Sending Forth Mass 14 Nov 2002

With all my love and gratitude,

Charlotte

Sponsor Letter 2...I get by with a little help from my friends

Dear Family and Friends,

Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy Birthday Mom!!  Please forgive my rather large lapse in time of communication; it is surely not due to a lack of gratitude or daily prayers. Rather, those who know me best can attest that I suffer from a severe case of procrastination…but that is surely not an excuse, and I promise to be better. All in all, I hope you have had many happy days since the last time I checked in. Obviously it was a little different to celebrate all of these holidays in the midst of another culture and the summer sun, but undoubtedly all of these times were filled with great joy.

You can all rest easy knowing that I forced everyone to acknowledge Thanksgiving. While I couldn’t quite handle preparing a 20 pound turkey, I managed to put together tomato soup, roasted chicken, potatoes, and an apple crisp…that’s somewhat American, right? Then for both Christmas and New Year’s Eve, we simply celebrated in our community/family and at midnight opened our front door to greet the neighborhood and dance a little bit with the little girls next door to the salsa music that continued to blare for three days. Then on Christmas and New Year’s days, we all went together to visit different families in the neighborhood. If there is one thing that stood out to me this holiday season that seemed a little different from back home, it was the spirit of sharing the moment…not so much in the sense of a physical exchange of presents, but rather the exchange of human presence. The people in the neighborhood place high importance on making sure that they physically greet all of their friends and family with a physical hug, kiss, and ¨¡Feliz Navidad/Año! ¨I for one am extremely grateful for the gift of their presence and willingness to share these moments with me.

In these past few months, I have had the opportunity to stand alongside many of our friends as they received the sacraments for the first time, beginning with the baptism Ariana, the granddaughter of a family we hold dear to our hearts as they treat us as their own sons and daughters.  In December, we all celebrated the Confirmation of a good friend Karen; Alejandra (Argentinean sister who just recently finished her mission)was her sponsor. Then, ‘tis the season of First Communions! Ceci (my Argentinean sister) and I just happened to drop by to say hello to a nun at a nearby elementary school as she was concluding a First Communion preparation class. After a quick and chaotic game of basketball in the adjacent courtyard, Sister Jeni, asked if we could return the following Wednesday to help organize all the kids before/during/after Mass to which we willingly obliged. For me it was truly a beautiful day as memories of my first communion flooded my head. Then just two days ago, Cristian, who lives right in front of us came strutting into our house sporting freshly cut hair, nicely pressed clothes, and shiny new shoes. After asking the natural question ¨Why the glam?,” we met him an hour later in a nearby grotto to share in his first communion mass celebrated in a nearby grotto filled with family, friends, and nuns who had been supporting the kids in their spiritual formation.

A few weeks ago, our good friend/ex-Heart’s Home missionary Romi invited us to eat lunch at her house to celebrate her birthday. On this particular day we were lucky to be accompanied by Sister Eleonore and Father Laurent (a French Heart’s Home priest who lives in Santiago, Chile in a community of Heart’s Home seminarians. Being responsible for our house, he visited us for two weeks to check in on our overall well being and offer a few words of advice along the way). Romi’s mom asked Father Laurent to offer the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick to an aunt living with them who is bed-bound and suffers from dementia. We were all able to accompany Father as he offered her the sacrament and consoled her shouts of pain and fear.

All of these sacramental festivities culminated with the wedding of Soyer and Adriana this past weekend. Soyer is a good friend of ours that works at the House of Peace which we visit every Friday, and Adriana used to work in the House of Peace in Chimbote (a fishing town about 7 hours north of Lima). The House of Peace, run by Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity, is a home for abandoned elderly men and children with severe disabilities; Soyer is more or less in charge of the children and a character to say the least. So naturally when we got wind of the nuptials we started making arrangements, and this past Friday we got on a bus at midnight along with all of his other faithful followers to go to Chimbote. While all of the traditional pre and post parties were filled with plenty of entertainment and savory treats, I was especially touched by the actual ceremony.  I was overwhelmed with a sense of companionship as the church was filled with close friends, family, classmates, Missionaries of Charity, and the girls who live in the House of Peace in Chimbote. The priest centered his sermon around thanking Soyer and Adriana for inviting all of us to share their matrimony with them. He reminded us that marriage truly is a sacrament meant to be an image of the love that Christ has for his Church. He also reminded us that like everything in our faith journey, marriage is simultaneously beautiful and difficult; thus Soyer and Adriana will need to always remember those they invited to the wedding to help them along the way.

Looking back at all these experiences, I can’t help but think about the importance of family and faith communities. Without the loving concern of her mom and grandparents, Ariana surely would never have been baptized. Without a little pestering from their parents, I doubt that the majority of nine year olds would have faithfully attended all of their classes to prepare for their First Communion. Without the careful watch of her daughter, Romi’s aunt would never have received the Anointing of the Sick. Without the support of all of their friends and family, Soyer and Adriana might not have the courage to take the leap of faith to get married. Without the support of all of you and my Heart’s Home community here in Peru, I surely would not have the strength to carry on everyday.

As I have just said, our neighborhood has an abundance of loving, caring, and responsible families; however my heart aches for all of the children who are not lucky to be part of such. Maria (all the names in this paragraph are changed), a faithful attendee of our time with the children every afternoon, often asks me questions about Baptism and Communion, commenting that many of her friends have received these sacraments. It is obvious that she has a desire to cultivate her faith, but I know that as a nine year old, I at least needed a little push and shove from my parents. Then there is nine year old Susan  and her three year old brother Marcos, who are in and out of our house from the time we wake up until we go to bed. Susan is a little more rebellious everyday, and you just want to yell the Spanish equivalent of “check your attitude”. However, it is clear that her anger comes from her lack of ability to be a normal nine year old as she literally watches out for Marcos 24/7 because their 23 year old mother has a hard time assuming the role of motherhood.  Moreover, they only return to their house filled with violence, drugs, and disease. There are countless children who I have seen everyday these past 5 months, but have yet to encounter their parents.

Many of you ask me if there are particular things you can pray for: please pray for all of the children of the barrio… that they may feel loved, guided, and protected. Also I ask that you pray for more Heart’s Home missionaries, in particularly for another brother for our community. Your prayers are always in unison with ours.

As always, thank you for jumping on this bandwagon with me!

Peace and love,

Charlotte

Sponsor Letter # 1

Dear Family and Friends,

I was taken off guard the other day when someone asked if I had started to write my sponsor letter, sig­ni­fying that I have now been in Peru for over a month. What’s even more mind­-​​boggling to con­sider is that it was barely this time last year that I first con­tacted Heart’s Home to learn more about the Mission of Com­passion. As I have said many times before, during my first visit this past March to the Heart’s Home in Brooklyn, I was imme­di­ately struck by the sin­cerity and warmness of all those I met. I returned to Brooklyn in June along with five other American volun­teers for two weeks of form­ation before we all departed for our respective mis­sions. For me, it was a comfort to meet other people my age who were sharing in this common exper­ience even though we were each from a dif­ferent part of the United States. This feeling has rever­berated ten­fold with every new encounter I have with the inter­na­tional Heart´s Home family here in Peru.

When I arrived here on September 18th, I was wel­comed at the airport by the members of my new com­munity charging toward me armed with hugs and kisses. All six of us then pro­ceeded to pile into one taxi and head for our home in Barrios Altos. At this point in time I imme­di­ately went into sensory overload, which I am just now starting to come out of. Lima is a bustling city, to say the least, full of crazy taxis and micro-​​­buses, street vendors boasting sizzling skewers of anti­cucho (trans­lation: mar­inated cow’s heart on a stick), fresh produce, flowers, and trinkets galore, and 8 million people roaming to and fro. As is the case in many large cities, even though Barrios Altos (our neigh­borhood) is a mere 15 blocks from the touristy and his­torical “Centro”, it is a world of its own. Once you cross over a large street, you are wel­comed by the sight and odor of dog drop­pings and trash heaps, but moreover you are wel­comed by a myriad of familiar faces waiting for you with open arms.

My new brothers and sisters have been my official tour guides and teachers for it all. As they have so gra­ciously intro­duced me to all of their friends, let me introduce them to you: Tim is 27 years old and a fellow Gringo (the col­lo­quial way to refer to an American). Ale­jandra, 21, and Cecelia, 24, are both from Argentina. Ben­jamin is Chilean and 24 years old. Our household Central American is Jessika, 23, from El Sal­vador. They have given the word “hos­pit­ality” a whole new meaning for me. Not only did they imme­di­ately share their food, bed­rooms, and bath­rooms with me, but they have been by my side every second of every day helping me do everything from nav­ig­ating the book of prayers to washing my laundry. However, I must admit that accepting their help has been a bit of a battle with my pride as I like to con­sider myself a fairly inde­pendent person. But perhaps that is exactly why I am here, away from my home, away from my country, and away from my lan­guage. I have been told many times that in order to share love and com­passion with other people, we must first allow ourselves to be loved and cared for. As simple as that sounds, it is a true struggle for me; it is an act of humility that I don´t think I have ever been fully open to. It is admitting that I am weak, that I don´t have all the answers, and that I des­per­ately need the presence not only of other people, but moreover the ever-​​faithful presence of the Holy Spirit. Here in Lima, I have no other option than to accept this reality. Somehow this acknow­ledgement of dependence is utterly liberating.

THE NITTY GRITTY

But Char­lotte, what exactly is it that you do every day? What does your house look like? What type of food do you eat? These are the ques­tions that many of you have asked and I pondered before arriving so I will do my best to fulfill all of our needs of mental images, but first let me begin with this dis­claimer: our mission is to try our best to be fully present to the reality of our neigh­borhood; to share in the joy and suf­fering of everyone around us. As we all know, reality is highly unpre­dictable so our daily schedule is more like a framework that we work within.

I’ll begin by describing the physical framework that I live in. Our house is com­fortably situated at a dead end of a street, adjacent to a market, making for less car traffic and more foot traffic. When you come through the front door, you find yourself on a patio with a room to your right where we welcome the children who come to our house. Con­tinue on into the house and you will stumble upon the kitchen and the chapel (every Heart´s Home has the grace of having a chapel with the Blessed Sac­rament). In the back of the house are two hallways, a bedroom and bathroom for the boys and the same for the girls. There is also a narrow stairway that leads to a room for vis­itors and the roof where we wash our clothes.

We all rotate daily being in charge of the house. If it is your day, that means that you will lead all prayer, go to the market prepare all the meals (chicken, potatoes, rice, and maybe a salad are pretty standard), and remain in the house in the afternoon to welcome the kids.
On an average day, we wake up at 7:00 for morning prayer, read for thirty minutes, and then eat breakfast. Depending on the day, we do dif­ferent things throughout the morning: Mondays we go to the market and the post office downtown, Tuesdays we clean the house, Fridays we help at a special needs home, and Sat­urdays we play with the kids whose parents sell flowers near the local cemetery. At some point in the morning we have an hour of Ador­ation (silent prayer and reflection) and we eat lunch at 1:00. If time permits, you might be able to sneak in a little siesta before we open our front door at 3:00 to pray the Rosary. After this, one person stays at the house to play with the kids while the rest of us go in pairs to visit our friends in the neigh­borhood. We then all reconvene at 6:00 for evening prayer and then go to Mass, fol­lowed by a bite to eat and then four nights a week people our age come over for a few hours to hang out. At 10:00 we gather once more in the chapel for night prayer and then slowly make our way to bed. Wed­nesday is our day of rest.

However, as I said, this is but a mere framework. These past few weeks have been a little dif­ferent due to a couple of things. First, Tim is leaving on Sunday after being here for nearly two years, thus there are countless people inviting us to their house to share a meal and final con­ver­sation. While it is hard to realize that Tim is leaving, these past few weeks have been a beau­tiful oppor­tunity for me to see the true friendship that exists between the people of Barrios Altos and El Punto (p.s. Heart’s Home in Spanish = Puntos Corazón). In the same way I described the hos­pit­ality of my imme­diate com­munity, the people of the neigh­borhood don us with an incredible amount of familial love as we are far away from our bio­lo­gical fam­ilies. Moreover, many of these people have been friends of our Punto since it opened 16 years ago and remember all of the mis­sion­aries who have come and gone. For me, this rela­tionship with Heart’s Home is a reflection of our rela­tionship with God; while people come and go in our lives, God’s love is never ceasing.

Secondly, there was an expos­ition of photos for two weeks in one of the main parks in Lima to cel­ebrate the 20th anniversary of Heart’s Home. There were large panels scattered throughout the park dis­playing photos from Heart’s Homes all around the world throughout the past 20 years. Everyday there were 3-​​5 people rep­res­enting Heart’s Home to offer more inform­ation to the passer-​​byers (in Lima there are four com­munities: my house in Barrios Altos, another in the Puente Piedra, a house of Heart´s Home nuns right out the city, and a solid group of ex-​​missionaries who live in Lima. Needless to say, I love being part of this vibrant com­munity and you will surely hear more about it in the future). For me it was not only a chance to put my Spanish-​​speaking skills to the test, but an oppor­tunity to reflect upon what exactly the mission of Heart’s Home is. At the end of one con­ver­sation, a man asked me why I talked to him while a steady flow of other people passed by. I simply responded that he was there in that moment and willing to con­verse with me, but it hit me how rare it is for a person to show a sincere interest in another. As over-​​simplistic as our mission of com­pas­sionate presence might sound, it is some­thing that we are all in des­perate need of.

Again, I can never thank all of you enough for all of your support. Without you, Heart’s Home would not exist and I surely wouldn’t be in Lima, Peru. The words of Mumford and Sons, a band my friends intro­duced me to this summer, con­stantly run through my head, “You are not alone in this. As brothers we will stand and hold your hand.” Thank you for holding my hand. Know that my com­munity prays for you daily. Please never hes­itate to contact me with spe­cific prayer requests.

¡Hasta pronto!
Peace and Love,
Charlotte 

Who is the most Gringa of them all??

ME!!! Literally, the other day I was visiting someone with my Argentinian sister Alejandra, and the woman told me that I was the most gringa person she has ever seen.



( 'Gringo' refers to a person from the United States, and sometimes is more generalized to refer to any person not from Latin America. 'Gringa' is the feminine form.)

Then two days later a little boy asked me why I had yellow hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes. His grandmother explained.

Yesterday I spent five minutes convincing someone that I had never dyed my hair.

I am a freak show more or less. I am happy I can provide Peru with a little entertainment.

So, in case you were perplexed by the title of this blog, I hope you now have a better understanding.