From the Archives: Newsletter July 2000
Lord, you have looked in my eyes; smiling, you have called my name. In the sand, I have left my boat. Close to you, I will seek other seas.
(taken from song Fisher of Men)
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
In love and gratitude for all that you have done during these years since the founding of Farm of the Child, I would like to send each one of you my prayers. You have all been a part of the happiness and love we share with the children and poor of Honduras.
The seed of the Farm of the Child was sown 13 years ago and continues giving its fruits. This dream, realized for the poor, gives us the opportunity to serve the living Jesus reflected in each little face of the orphan children that happily run in the school, the sick that come to our clinic and all of the abandoned and widowed mothers that need clothes and food. In the Farm, these brothers and sisters find love, consolation, health and joy. From our prayers, they learn of the Jesus that loves them. Thanks to God, our Bishop Virgilio Lopez, the missionaries, Honduran workers, families and each of you, our dear benefactors, we have been able to complete a large part of the vision of the Farm of the Child.
The mission continues to grow and grow… Our dear Daughters of Charity are always referring good Honduran couples to work with the orphans in the Finca. During the mass Easter Sunday, we welcomed our new house parents Richard (27) and Marlin (26) with their daughter Sandra (2) who will be working in the fifth home, Casa San José, with eight children. To date, the Farm is made up of five homes housing 46 orphan children, the school, clinic, technical training workshops (including carpentry, bread making, auto shop and sewing), the missionaries house, visitors house, clothing and food storage and the Church of the Holy Family.
The Lord continues blessing us with more Catholic missionaries, lay and religious, who will follow this vision in their commitment of love. My dear brothers and sisters, in this letter I must let you know that in December of this year, my missionary family will be moving to Antigua, Guatemala, where I was born and raised. After much time in prayer, the Lord has shown me that it is time to move my family to Antigua. There I will look for work to provide an education and spiritual growth for my five Pesacatores, Montsy (11), Pamela (10), Vinchenzo (8), Johnny (6) and David (5), and to cultivate my vocation of motherhood. Next year Montsy and Pamela will study together in High School and my three little men will be in 4th, 3rd and 1st grades.
These little Pescatores have done their mission well. They have shared years of happiness in the lives of the Farm’s orphan children, have been the consolation in my loneliness and the joy in my home. The Holy Spirit worked through my children to give me strength after Vincent’s death. I remember those first painful months; the long, dark, sleepless nights that I desired only to cry, trying in my prayer to accept this loss in my life. I would cover my mouth with the pillow, trying to keep my little ones from having to hear their Mommy cry. One night I suddenly felt at my back Montsy’s (6 1/2 years old) tiny little hands consoling me. In my ear she said, Mommy, don t worry. We are here with you; remember that Daddy’s in heaven.
How marvelous, brothers and sisters, to hear this little angel, her beautiful words and clear understanding so close to the death of her dear Daddy. I took her in my arms and wished I could be like her. I was reminded of the words of Jesus when he said, Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:3). In this moment, I humbly asked the Lord with all of my heart to augment my faith and that He allow me to continue His work with the help of the Holy Spirit.
My children are quickly growing and, even at their young ages, they share with me their high expectations. My Johnny (with Italian blood and a lot of energy) has been celebrating masses for me for three years; he has often told me he wants to be the Bishop. Little Pamela is very much like her father. She has seen many problems with the land in this country, especially in Trujillo, and has decided to one day be a lawyer in order to help the poor in their problems. I have a lot of work ahead of me in order to, with God’s help, prepare my children to be future instruments for Jesus so that they may continue constructing His kingdom.
It is not easy to say good-bye to this very dear mission that holds many unforgettable memories. I thank God for the opportunity He gave me to serve my Honduran brothers and sisters. My work here, however, does not end; I will be visiting the Finca often, supporting them in their projects and continuing with them this vision of love. Our dear Bishop Virgilio Lopez continues supporting us through our Honduran Board of Directors and guiding us spiritually in our lives.
The ways of God are beautiful if we allow Him to serve us in the way He wishes. After two years of soliciting the Superiors of the Franciscan Sisters to guide us in the direction of the Farm of the Child, this Jubilee Year we have received the blessing of good news. With the support of Bishop Lopez, the Superior General Sister Antonia Torres informed us that beginning in March of this year Sister Doris Centeno Carias (36), originally from the capital city, Tegucigalpa, would be arriving to work in our mission. We hope that for next year 2001, two more Franciscan Sisters will be able to come. Glory be to God!
With much joy and surrender Sister Doris has integrated herself into the Farm’s community and its mission. Formerly, she worked five years in the Diocese of Juticalpa, Olancho, helping Bishop Mauro Muldoon in the administration of the Bishopric and community development projects. She was also in charge of the Pontifical Missionary Works, where she worked with children, teenagers and adults in the apostolate of praying for the missions, visiting for the sick and evangelizing.
Her call to the religious life came when, as a part of the youth group of her parish, she became involved with an organization working in Nicaraguan refugee camps. The people had fled from the civil war in their country to the border of Honduras. She served the refugees by teaching children, working side by side with adults and even cooking meals. Sadness showed in the faces of these families forced from their homes and land because of the war. Sister Doris experienced the pain in each of their lives when they were sick, hungry and downhearted. She saw the need of a spiritual friend; someone who could share with them the word of God to give them food for their lives. It was not easy for priests to come to these places and she felt deep in her heart that God was calling her to be that spiritual friend for these brothers and sisters that felt the thirst of Christ.
And that is how God uses us; we are no more than small instruments in His hands. Sister Doris is now supporting us in the direction of the Farm, working together with the American administrator and, with the support of all the other missionaries, advancing the work that Jesus Christ has given to us. We are very joyful to be able to have an integrated community of devout and committed Christians. The work continues forward, brothers and sisters, but we still need your help and your prayers.
God bless,
Zulena Pescatore
Henry
By Cameo (and Henry Antonio)
Henry, a 14 year old boy who arrived last April with his four little brothers, invited me to his house for jamo. Not yet knowing what jamo was, and not wanting to seem unappreciative, I accepted.
A bowl of rice with a black, lizardy-looking leg sticking out of it was put down in front of me. How in the world do you eat a lizard leg? The children were tearing into their jamo, skin and all, sucking off every tendon and licking the bone clean. I grabbed the leg and started to chew on it. The thin snake/lizard skin slithered right in between my teeth and the rubbery meat squeaked as I tried to pull it off the bone. Maybe I could use this time to explain that iguanas, or jamos, are on the endangered species list and that really I should not be eating this little fella, I thought to my self, but soon realized that would probably not work. Neither did I know how to say endangered species in Spanish, nor would they know what I was talking about if I did.
Henry and his four little brothers come from Olanchito, an area inland from Trujillo. Their mother had been sick for over a year before she passed away from AIDS last April, leaving the children to run in the streets with their friends hunting jamos, and helping around the food market in exchange for something to eat. When the children came to us, even the littlest one, five years old, had a filthy mouth and a feisty attitude.
This handful of boys, accustomed to roaming the streets with their friends, had a difficult time adjusting to the rules, permission requests and scheduled activities of the Farm of the Child. They had suffered the loss of a loving father seven years ago, the loss of their grandmother, who cared for them during their mother’s sickness, one year ago, and the loss of their mother just months ago. On top of all this, the youngest brother, Leonardo, was separated from the family to live in a home for HIV positive children. They came to the Farm with sad, scared faces, rebelling against discipline and not wanting to participate in church or afternoon activities. However, beneath this was a sincere desire to be good kids, learn to obey their house parents and above all, learn about God.
Henry, the oldest, has written his own story for you:
“There once was a time when a boy named Henry lived in a place called Olanchito with his family. We were really poor. One time my father died, then my grandmother. I worked in the market so I could eat. In the afternoon I hunted iguanas to eat. I also liked to play soccer in the afternoon.
I have five brothers. My smallest brother is named Leonardo. The rest are named Jorge, Joel, Brayan, but we call him Tavito, he’s the littlest, and Wilder is right after me. They are very good and nice and well behaved. I love them a lot. My mom was named Martha. She was very good, pretty, and caring. She liked to play with us.
I had a friend, Javin. He was a good friend. I miss him a lot. I also miss my mom, my grandma, and my dad. And my brother Leonardo, I miss him a lot. I miss all the people that were good to us, the nuns, Maite, Carlota, Mariyita, and Olguita. That God may bless them where ever they may be. [The nuns of Olanchito helped feed and shelter Henry and his family during the mother’s illness.]
I give thanks to God for being so good to us and for bringing us to the Farm of the Child. Because it makes me think that there are many children abandoned and orphaned in the world and they haven t had the opportunity to come to the Farm of the Child and we did. This means that God loves us a lot and cares for us and that his love is infinite. I always pray to God that he cares for the poor children and the abandoned ones, for those that don t have food or a roof, or clothes or shoes. May God care for them and bless them. And may God bless those people that help us at the Farm of the Child. May God care for them for being so good to us.
I give much thanks to God for bringing us to the Farm of the Child and giving us this big family. Above all may God bless the volunteers for being so good, friendly and caring, because they came here to share their love. I care a lot for the volunteers. May God bless them and their families and be always with them.
I am very happy for having come here. Thank you God.”
The End - by Henry Antonio
Life has changed immensely for Henry and his little brothers, but little by little they are settling into the big family of the Farm of the Child. They still hunt jamos and offer them to the volunteers to eat, and little by little we, too, are settling into their family and learning to actually enjoy the slimy little critters.