Vignettes

As part of Mission Year, we have an hour each week devoted to "Curriculum," when we discuss a book that Mission Year asks all of us to read. We've read books about community development, race, theology of the oppressed, spiritual practices, even one of the gospels! The book we're reading now is called House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros, and it's a series of vignettes. To reflect on the book and our time in Mission Year, we wrote vignettes about our experiences. We're sharing them here for your enjoyment. Some resemble poetry more than a vignette and there's one song, but all reflect on our year.

Arrival

    It’s stuffy and sticky and sleepy in the back seat of the van. The darkness hides all but the whites of her eyes, surveying the new, unfamiliar landscape.

     There are tracks in the middle of the road and cars ride on top of the them with no trouble. What are the tracks for?

     I wonder how long our ride will be. Trips from the airport are always long--“Here we are!”--But not this one.

     “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m in the hood; I really can’t believe I’m doing this,” the eyes tell me out of the darkness. I don’t know if it’s an invitation to converse or just a statement. Actually I don’t know anyone or anything. I just get out of the van, into more darkness. Darkness.

Progressive Process

Pennies parting priceless places

Smiles on hurt hearts and broken faces

Who waged which war?

Opinions open onto oppression

Struggle is inevitable

Butter

     On a small street are tall skinny houses that looked as though they've been smashed together. In a house covered in crimson red bricks and a new cast iron gate is a tall fiery woman full of energy that fills her house.
     Her 4 children hold her firecracker personality, she with a heart of gold.
     She strives to offer them the best. After school they run, hide, squirm to get away but she manages to reign them in for more education.
     A small rectangular stick that brings life to any dish resembles her name, and is much like her personality.

The Trained Eye

To the naked, untrained eye

In and out, in and out

People come and go

Up the stairs, down the stairs

Through the door, out the door

In the house, out the house

Things get passed, side to side

In the car, out the car, under the car?

Black bags, rolled up newspapers

The trash pile near the corner of the stoop

Things unseen to the untrained eye

But I see, the smoke after the pick up

What Waits

And are you too blind to see
What waits on the other side

Stuck here held by chains
Like a voice without a name
You are waiting for change
As blame

Drowning in your shame
You turn it all to angst
Eating away your very soul
How you long to be whole

No matter to my words
You close your heart it hurts
I'm only here for a moment
Then I'm gone to the wind

My right hand offers hope
My left hand offers love
Quit drowning in this sea
Quit your dying null to peace

Chorus

Bridge
This my friend is what I see
You keep holding on to be
Let go of yourself my dear
A caged bird can't really sing

Chorus

Sharing Jesus

“Ice Cream!”

A shriek of joy pierces straight through the heavy humid air. The now familiar sound of tiny bells and chimes announcing the presence of the ice cream truck is quickly approaching. I scoop up a child sitting at the top of the stairs and gently place him on the sidewalk.

“You need anything Miss Bella? its gonna be fifty cents left when I get my sandwich.”

“nah, I’m good. Go on, before he leaves!”

I watch him run over and join all the other neighborhood kids at the ice cream truck. Its a weekend symphony that plays in the evening… over and over again the ice cream jingle accompanied by children laughing and shouting to get right up to the window.

My minds eye sees something different. I imagine that the man in the window is something similar to a modern day Jesus; welcoming the children with open arms, songs, and laughter. I imagine that each child that lifts up a dollar, or their spare change, is actually lifting up their hopes and dreams. Each one leaves with a beautiful blessing that suits them… even if its not what everyone else expected.

“Wait, is that a sandwhich?”

“kind of... its like a pretzel with cheese and stuff!

“You got that at the ice-cream truck?”

“yup!”

I laugh and shake my head in disbelief. Literally EVERYTHING comes from that truck! As the stoop of my home fills with kids enjoying their treats, my eyes wander to a child on the otherside of the street. He has no food in hand, no treat from the truck. His eyes catch mine… than he shakes his head and walks away. when he turns the corner, I find i'm not the only one observing him.

“You know him?”

“nah. i’ve seen him though”

“does he live here?”

“He doesn't belong here. He’s not a part of our community.”

I fall silent, mind turning.

I have what I need.
I’m good.

“shouldn't we all be apart of the community?”

“I guess some people don’t like to share.”

Smiles

I turn the corner

62^nd and Reedland

Headphones in my ears and tired after a long day at work

I slowly take them out and my ears fill with new sounds—laughter, conversation, friendship.

I look to my right

     Hello Ms. Liz, Hello Ms. Eva, Hello Ms. Dee

Their smiles and eyes meet mine.

Casual conversation, standing on the porch, leaning on the rails.

Falling into familiarity and comfort

I excuse myself

Hello Aizhe, Hello Nina, Hello Jylen

Another stop, more smiles

Some faces and smiles I know, some are strangers though

Others friends.

I turn and see the trees

Home

Allan and Rasheen

Allan is on the left and Rasheen the right

Today's post is special because I got one of my friends to write with me. He lives down the street from me and sometimes we play together in the street or in my house. I invited him to write somehting to post here so you could meet him. We spend time together on Satureday afternoons, when my housemates and I make sure to spend time with our neighbors. His name is Allan Erwin, but I'll let him introduce himself:

"Hey my name is Allan Erwin. I like to play football. I play for a team also I play mosly on my block. I love to play with my friends there name is Preston Hogue and the other ones name Zamir Feilds also my brother play football with me. that is my life time storey."

These words are from Allan's brother Rasheen. I play with him often when I play with Allan. We always ahve fun together, and wehn we see each other on the street we wave and say hello. Today while they were at our house they helped my housemate Priscillia make muffins for another neighbor, too. Although Allan wrote his "life time storey," Rasheen decided to write a fictional story about him and me:

"Once upon a time there was a boy named rasheen he had no were to stay ntoher to eat or nothing to Drink one year later a Guy named preston came and said hello do you need a place to stay someting to eat or something to Drink He brang me to a shelter where i can have anything and rasheen and preston lived happyley ever after."

My Kind of Folk (Guest Blogger)

by guest blogger Sophilia Hubbard of the Southwest Philly Mission Year team:

Why do I need to spend time with folk who are already saved? They already know what they know. I love spending time with people who are rebels. People who don't understand their potential and true value in Christ. I love hanging out with nobodies, people who have no sense of direction. Ordinary people, human beings, with character good or bad that society has written off. Yeah those are my kind of folk. 

Today I met a real cool cat. His name is Lawrence. Lawrence, like everyone else has a past. His past is one of a lot of hardship. An attribute that struck me in a momentary state of shock was the stories in which he shared with me. Lawrence has a passion for helping people that is rare in today's American culture. The stories he shared with me a total complete and utter stranger; if I was Lawrence I wouldn't trust anyone nor talk to anyone. If I went through half the situations he went through I would be muted.... permanently. Lawrence thank you for the encouragement. 

God thank you for all of the rich opportunities and encounters that I have daily to smile and listen to others. I pray for the nobodies of the world like me. I pray as well for the folk who are already saved who know what they know. Thank you Jesus for who you are! Thank you Jesus for constantly molding and influencing me to positively impact communities. 

Quote: 

"I am constantly blown away by the opportunities that God lays in front of us to learn how to love and to be loved."  -William Owen 

Learn more about Sophie here.

Contact Guest Blogger

blissfulsmh09@gmail.com