Volunteering and traveling in Argentina to proclaim God's great love, and hopefully not getting sick along the way.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Fútbol en LV

So every Monday, a group goes to play soccer with the kids in Las Violetas. At first, when I heard about it, I wanted to go, but already had plans at the time. Now that I'm making my own schedule, Monday evenings are fairly free. Last week was the first, and it was fun, but I particularly liked last night.

For one, a storm seemed to be headed right for the neighborhood if not right for the cancha, or soccer field, on which we would be playing. Then, a miraculous strong wind came that seemed to blow over the thunderstorm completely. Plus, due to the ominous weather, no one was playing when we arrived.

Free territory.

I played for awhile with the boys. Even scored a little golaso (hehe), but once another came eager to play, I let him take my spot. I figure it's better that the boys play, and I be a female presence for any girls that do come. Also, and sort of more importantly, I have a personal challenge and his name is Gaston.

I know I have mentioned Gaston before. He is a hardheaded kid that doesn't seem to want to let anybody in. As I sat with him on the sideline (he wasn't playing due to a hurt toe) I prayed inwardly. 'God, every time I talk first, he doesn't want to talk. I want to trust You with this time we have here. Let me know when to say something, and when not to.'

Thirty seconds later, Gaston made a comment about the weather. I responded, and he even talked a little back. A good sign. But then I had to wait some more. Every now and then he would chime in with a comment. I got a little more courage with my own comments, and was surprised to see him say something back. But I tried not to push it.

When all was said and done, Gaston left early. I suppose a little sad he couldn't play due to his foot. But as we passed him on the street I made sure to wave and say good bye. Miracle number two with him.. he acknowledged me with a nod of the head. ha. The boys can be so proud sometimes...

A new kid came this week. Er.. someone who hadn't come last week, and I deduced his name through what others would yell. Manuel. That name seemed so familiar, and not just because of our local meat man. Sure enough, he looked at me and said, "Wait.. you're--how do you say it?"

"Sharayah."

"That's right," he exclaimed. "Do you remember me??!! You taught me how to juggle last year!"

It was a good little evening. On our way home, three girls were walking past us and I overheard them say something about wanting to play soccer. "Come on with us next week," I told them, and asked them their names.

"REALLY??"

"Of course!!" though in the back of my mind thinking to still bring cards just in case the boys are mean about it. Got to start praying about this one pronto!

All that to say, a good time! Chau!

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