Little Everythings

"What fortune lies beyond the stars
Those dazzling heights too vast to climb
I got so high to fall so far
But I found heaven as love swept low"
 - Touch The Sky, by Hillsong United



It was 6:55am when I walked out my door. My arms were full carrying a basket with Easter treats, a container of pumpkin bread and one of cut fruit, plus a bag holding three bottles of juice. I arrived at Casa Gabriel, prepared for a call to action.
"Let's go! We need to leave by 7:15!" I imagined calling down the hallways, but as it turned out, this wasn't needed. Footsteps thundered down the stairs to greet me. Soon, we had piled into two cars, one belonging to the House Parents and one to the House Coordinator Carlos, who had just returned from a two-month internship in Panama.

It was a 45-minute drive out to El Refugio, the retreat center tucked into the mountains. At the top of a hill is a field with an incredible view. A wooden cross was erected there years ago. For the yearly Easter service, people had set out chairs, blankets, and wooden benches. Through the worship and message, it rained lightly on and off, the music sheets gently sagging in people's hands, and the scent of rain mingling with the smell of smoke from the campfire. Afterwards, I was taking photos when I heard my name called. I turned to see that the boys had already piled into the two cars, and one of them was waving me over. I ran to the car, and, in a flash decision, handed my camera to the boy in the front seat and jumped onto the outside step, holding onto the inside handle through the open window. Carlos began to drive and the others cheered as I stayed firmly where I was. Before heading down the mountain, Carlos asked if I wanted to get into the car.
"I'm fine!" I replied, and with that encouragement, two of the guys pulled themselves up so they were seated in the windows. Carlos started down the mountain, with the boys and I who were outside the vehicle ducking stray branches and whooping encouragement as we hung on tight. But only with one hand; the other waved free, and when I suddenly remembered my camera I had one of the guys pass it over to me. I slung it around my neck and took haphazard photos and video clips. When Carlos pulled to a stop halfway down, I quickly discovered that it was because the current song playing from his iPhone had ended, and he was determined to find another good one.
"It's okay! Keep driving!" I told him, thinking it didn't matter. Yet when he punched one in* and turned up the music, I was proven completely wrong. Driving through the stately eucalyptus trees along the forested mountain path, though enchanting enough on its own, was enhanced with the music. Carlos was right to have stopped. The perfect song makes everything better.

We had a potluck-style breakfast and watched the kids participate in an Easter egg hunt (which is not a tradition here in Ecuador) before heading back to Casa Gabriel. I had purchased chocolate eggs and candies for the boys and placed them in green plastic cups, which I presented to them at the house. Because they are teenage boys, and not ones to get the concept of brunch being one meal to replace two, they were quickly hungry again. I walked to a nearby store to buy hotdogs and fixed a quick lunch.

It rained all afternoon. The boys and I sprawled across the living room, they while playing video games and I while reading. For nearly three hours we were couch potatoes, the time punctuated with instances of one of them asking me a question or calling out just to tease me. A little before 5:00, I gathered my things from the office and got ready to go home. When I returned to the living room, things in hand, the five boys present looked up at me. In perfect unison two of them said, "Sonnet, nooooo!" It was as though they had planned it. I laughed, so surprised. We said goodbyes (until the next day was all!) and I walked home.

That day, we had had a good, somewhat deep conversation at lunch. We had experienced the beauty of nature, moments of adventure, and time with friends coming together to celebrate Easter, yet those lazy afternoon hours in the living room stood out to me just as much. I think it was because the boys knew that even though I was there reading, them bugging me didn't bug me. I think they know I'm not there out of obligation, but because I want to be. They test this, certainly, and I believe they feel reassured. It touched me to see their teenage eyes look up and say, "Nooo!" when it was time for me to leave. I love that in relationships, not every meaningful time has to have a deep meaning. It can be a whole lot of nothing; seemingly, at least. A whole lot of nothing which can mean everything.


I'll always remember jumping onto the side of the car and riding down the mountain, Carlos driving and picking out the perfect song. But from that Easter, I'll also remember being curled up on the living room couch reading "Educated" by Tara Westover while the boys played video games and occasionally, just because they could, looked over and called my name.



*the song Carlos played is the one quoted above, "Touch The Sky". 
The photo is of the boys, House Parents, and I posing on one of the mud run obstacles on top of the mountain at El Refugio.