Our Hasta Luegos

I call one of our waiters/students/friends here at the hotel "el sabio" (the wise one), because he's always tossing out little nuggets. Like the other day at lunch when we asked for our bill, Juan Colin just asked for a smile. When we frowned in confusion instead of smiling, he put his hand down on the table and bent down to eye level--the sure sign he's about to get proverbial. He said: "Una sonrisa no cuesta nada, pero lo vale todo." A smile doesn't cost a thing, but it's worth everything. We were definitely smiling then, and with that, our lunch was paid.

John also taught me never to say adios. This is how I'd been saying goodbye to the hotel staff when I left for class everyday, but a few weeks into it, el sabio corrected me: "With adios comes tears, teacher. It's too final. In Mexico, we say 'hasta luego.' It gives us hope we'll meet again." Given the fact that seeing my hotel staff again--every night--is something I'm hoping hard for when my bus driver is playing bumper cars in six-lane traffic and I'm sharing personal space with five muchachos on the metro, I began to get into the hasta luego habit.

So the past two evenings it was hasta luego, not adios, as I graduated my first set of students in Chimalhaucan. There were already so many teary eyes as we celebrated and said goodbyes, I can't imagine if I had thrown out the "A word." Many of my students had become the dearest friends, and hugging them goodbye, I understood what el sabio was saying: until proven otherwise, let's live like we'll be catching up over coffee one day in the future. Much easier, eh.

So let me tell you about our hasta luegos.

At Pastor Jose's Church (Iglesia Adonai), we graduated twenty--four kids, ten teenagers, and six adults. Everyone arrived right on time by Mexican standards (at least half an hour late), cleaned up, dressed up, and with their extended families in tow. We started by singing "Open the eyes of my heart, Lord" in Spanish and in English--we had practiced this with the students beforehand. A lot of them were trying not to look at the words when they were singing in English, trying to sing it by heart. Then Pastor Jose, Mama Rosi, and I all said a few words. I was praying I wouldn't make too many slips, and God REALLY came through because I only made one: instead of saying that Mary, my teaching partner the past two weeks, teaches at a primary school in the states (escuela primaria), I said she teaches at a spring school (escuela primavera)! My students just laughed and laughed and tried their best to save me, screaming out the correct word between laughs--a good picture of what class looks like a lot of the time. After that, we had each graduate stand up and introduce themselves in English (Hello, my name is--). Everyone did a great job, even 6 year old Elizabeth who said, "Hello...(extremely long pause)...Elizabeth." (She forgot the part in the middle).

Then, my favorite part of the night was when four of our adult students, two of whom had never been to Church when classes began a month ago, surprised us by reading a verse (Psalm 107:1) in Spanish and English! Throughout the month we gave them verses in both languages at the beginning of each class, and this was one we'd given them earlier that week. I was so blessed to hear them read the verse in English, to hear them use their new words to praise God. Next, Mary and I presented the students with their certificates, gifts, and Spanish Bibles, and the night ended in prayer, fruta con crema batida, and group photos under rain-filled clouds that waited patiently on us.

When Pastor Jose was speaking, he kept mentioning how the teachers and I "gave up everything" to come down and serve in Mexico. I was so struck by this...if only he knew that it's IN Mexico, in his tiny one-room-sanctuary-schoolhouse, that we gain so much. There was so much joy in that place!

Friday night we had graduation at Pastor Pedro Martinez's Church (Dios con Nosotros). We graduated seven--4 kids, 1 teenager, and 2 women. Let me tell you what: 6 year old Martin Said (pronounced "Sai-eed"), who graduated from kindergarten the very same morning, came strutting into Church in a bona fide three piece suit, three sizes too big. (See pictures!) Said wanted to go above and beyond during the ceremony (just as he had in his wardrobe), and he asked us if he could recite his English numbers for everyone, in addition to his name! He had his tie in his mouth for one through eleven, but we caught the last few numbers.

I should mention that Rosi, Dr. Becky, Mary, and me were all wearing matching earrings and bracelets; one of our students, Alejandrina, brought what seemed to be her whole jewelry collection...and gave it away. She is the student who brought homemade snacks for the teachers every class, and by the last week these snacks had progressed to full course meals on real plates! Over the course of the month, we were blessed by her life story (she was abandoned by her birth parents, spent much of her life in bitterness because of it, but met the Lord not long ago and is THE most joyful person I know). Also, we were able to pray over her the very day her grandbaby died this month; she came out to class instead of wallowing at home, she told us, because class "gives her life."

Though the ceremony was shorter, smaller, more subdued, it was a beautiful night because we were able to graduate sweet friends like Alejandrina and precious little kids like Said.

Thank you all for the role you played in creating these past two nights. I don't know what kind of seeds we've planted, what will come of the connections we've made with non-believers in the community or some of our students in search of promotion or better jobs. But I do know we have blessed and empowered our brothers and sisters here. And that is the kind of thing that really shows Dad off.

(One other thing I know about saying goodbye in Mexico: don't forget the kiss on the cheek!)