For the safety of my students and the organization I am partnering with I will not refer to any students by their name but simply student F, student H, student M, and student A. I also will not refer to the organization I am partnering with at this time. this is simply a creative expression of what life in Greece has been like so far in my week and a half here.
In the middle of the day in Athens Greece, I stand at the front of an air conditioned classroom. It is a small haven from the heat just outside the sliding glass doors. I only know their names and bits and pieces of their stories from what the volunteers have told me. Most of the students are from Iran. There is a new couple from Afghanistan that showed up the same day I did and since then I have seen small smiles creep across their face as they begin to relax for 2 hours in my classroom. My fist interaction with them was their intake interview. Full of tears they told their story and I sat and listened and prayed that they qualified for the help that this organization offers. They were filled with so much worry that first day. The only things my students have to worry about in here are pronouncing words that seem caught in the back of their throats, tripping over their tongues as they come across their lips. For 2 hours my students don't have to worry about what is outside the sliding glass door.
I only know their names, and that most of them love to dance, as they so proudly told me when we went over "what do you like to do in your free time?". I also now know that most of them like tea more than coffee, and all of them like cold weather more than hot weather. I only know their names, and that student F hides her smile when she is unsure if she said a word correctly. I know that Student H remembers words and meanings quickly, but has the hardest time saying the word Thursday and it makes his wife laugh. I know that Student M will always ask for another class later that day, because she wants to "talk in english all the time". I know that student A understands everything I say but won't admit it. She will listen as I talk to other volunteers and smile at jokes I make, but will yell at me in farsi if I call her out on knowing english.
I only know their names, and maybe a little bit more, but I know that there is no way to erase their faces from my memory. I will remember the scares on their faces and hands, I will remember the gray hairs that have popped out early on their young heads. I will remember how they would squint at the white bored sounding out the words.
I only know their names, they only know mine. the thing that connects us is a belief in Jesus, and a hope that surpasses circumstance.
In the middle of the day in Athens Greece, I stand at the front of an air conditioned classroom. It is a small haven from the heat just outside the sliding glass doors. I only know their names and bits and pieces of their stories from what the volunteers have told me. Most of the students are from Iran. There is a new couple from Afghanistan that showed up the same day I did and since then I have seen small smiles creep across their face as they begin to relax for 2 hours in my classroom. My fist interaction with them was their intake interview. Full of tears they told their story and I sat and listened and prayed that they qualified for the help that this organization offers. They were filled with so much worry that first day. The only things my students have to worry about in here are pronouncing words that seem caught in the back of their throats, tripping over their tongues as they come across their lips. For 2 hours my students don't have to worry about what is outside the sliding glass door.
I only know their names, and that most of them love to dance, as they so proudly told me when we went over "what do you like to do in your free time?". I also now know that most of them like tea more than coffee, and all of them like cold weather more than hot weather. I only know their names, and that student F hides her smile when she is unsure if she said a word correctly. I know that Student H remembers words and meanings quickly, but has the hardest time saying the word Thursday and it makes his wife laugh. I know that Student M will always ask for another class later that day, because she wants to "talk in english all the time". I know that student A understands everything I say but won't admit it. She will listen as I talk to other volunteers and smile at jokes I make, but will yell at me in farsi if I call her out on knowing english.
I only know their names, and maybe a little bit more, but I know that there is no way to erase their faces from my memory. I will remember the scares on their faces and hands, I will remember the gray hairs that have popped out early on their young heads. I will remember how they would squint at the white bored sounding out the words.
I only know their names, they only know mine. the thing that connects us is a belief in Jesus, and a hope that surpasses circumstance.
Comments
Post a Comment