Thursday, 1 November 2012

Horses for Orphans, Brazil - Day 11



We wake up during the night to the sound of wind howling and rain thudding on the roof. Thunder and lightening accompanies the drama. It is majestic and rather intimidating.

Julie gets up to help bring in the horses with Neil and Reginaldo. But when they go down to the tack room, there is no sign at all of Reginaldo.... or of the tack room keys. Welliton comes to help, and he spends a lot of time running around in the rain, looking for Reginaldo. Emma joins them. Eventually we discover that Reginaldo had gone to see his sister about moving his belonging to her house, and that he has forgotten to leave the key with us.

So the horses have to wait till lunchtime for their food. They don’t seem to mind much, as they are all turned out to graze again. When Emma and Neil and Julie come up to the house, soaking wet, we laugh about the conversation the horses might have had with each other.... something along the lines of ‘Loco Anglais!’ After all, they had been sheltering from the rain down by the trees; along come these English people who chase them up in driving rain to the stables, and then let them all go again... by which time - of course - they were all wet.

Because it is raining so hard, Ingela decides that instead of spending time with the horses in the morning, we will have our ‘God Time’ a little earlier, and then have a Technical Equipment session with her – she is rather disturbed to see how we use our laptops and equipment; although we might get away with it in the UK, in third world countries electrical currents are not as stable. The basic rule of thumb is always connect from the strongest point to the weakest, and when disconnecting, disconnect from the weakest point to the strongest. After explaining, she gets us to practise until we can do it properly. Interesting what you learn on these trips!

After all that rain, the sun comes out and within a short while it is hard to believe it was so wet earlier. It is hot again! This afternoon the boys spend the afternoon practising for the demonstration they will give tomorrow when we have a church group visiting us.

Mel has planned a number of Horse Agility obstacles, and we help set them up. We collect sticks to make the U-Bends and squares. Welliton helps us. We then gather in the arena so that she can explain how she would like the course to be placed, and who is helping with what task. It is great that we know each other so well; it is easy to work together as a team.

By now the idea of Horse Agility makes sense to the children, and within a short space of time they are working hard at their tasks. It is fun to see how quickly they get the idea - and how excellent they are at implementing!




Meanwhile Kate helps Fabricio figure out how to catch Branco without having to chase him all over the arena, and earns a smile. The sadness on this boy has been so tangible; it is good to see him smile.
I love seeing how horses help people. They have an amazing capacity to restore hope and heal broken hearts. As I watching Fabricio with his horse later, there is a moment when he stops, and hides his face in the horse's neck - and they stand quietly together for a long time. Two living things, trust badly eroded in both, drawing strength and comfort from each other.

In the late afternoon the little children come over to pay with Kate. Patrick joins them, as he and Kate have become great friends, and Julie Anne takes photographs. Later I am completely overwhelmed by a vision of who this boy could become - the photograph Julie has taken of him is full of light and love and joy. Tears flood my eyes as I dream of the future that could happen for him.  I determine to continue to pray regularly for him, with this photograph as inspiration. Ever since I met this boy, I have thought of Nicky Cruz, and his remarkable story told in 'Run, Baby Run'. Later I tell Patrick about Nicky, and I tell him that I will get a copy of this book in Portugese for him, and that I will bring it for him the next time I come to Brazil.


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